More Than One Spy
by Blazin Shadow
Summary: OOTP Spoiler-SORRY! Designed for Draco Malfoy lovers. Dumbledore has now given Draco a way out of his predicament, but with helping Dumbledore change the Slytherins destiny and hearing the Whomping Willow in his mind? What else could go wrong.
1. Default Chapter

Usually I write for Beyblade, but hey, there's a first time for everything. So here's my first story based on the ever so famous Harry Potter. After Sirius's death in book five, I was so angry. The best character just chopped off like nothing important. Well ... I decided to write about what would happen afterwards, just to see. There's alot of Draco, more so than Harry.  
  
Warning - Rated R for ... um ... Rape, on later chapters. Nothing offensive in this chapter. Well, not directly. I might drop it down to pg 13 if people would prefer me to not write disturbing scenes like that. I don't know, never have done before, only mild stuff. You'll have to tell me.  
  
Anyway. Hope you like.  
  
********More Than One Spy.********  
  
***Chapter one - Time for one more spy.***  
  
How could you do this to me?  
  
I thought you loved me, I thought you cared.  
  
The pain you gave hurts deeply, burns my very soul.  
  
But now I see the truth, I'm scared.  
  
***  
  
Dear professor Dumbledore,  
For personal reasons that concern only the family, my son Draco Malfoy must return home every weekend. I expect him home by ten am every Saturday. Since this is a inconvenience to the Hogwarts Express and because of the severity of this situation, I ask that Draco use your fire place to Floo home.  
  
Yours Faithfully,  
Lucius Malfoy.  
  
***  
  
Wondering what the family crisis was, Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully while contemplating the situation. He had been meaning to have a word with the spoilt prince of Malfoy Manor to try to show him the light. But alas, the last five years had been tiring for the aging wizard and the years to come would no doubt be even harder. Especially for Harry who had just lost his Godfather.  
  
"It's too soon." Came the worn out voice, a mere whisper but which echoed in his silent office. "He's too young."  
  
A cry brought him out of his musings and a small chuckle escaped his lips as his attention was now caught by the flustering phoenix. His friend. Standing up, the headmaster spoke to the legendary bird, his voice now sounding as it should; opptimistic and the source of light in the oncoming darkness.  
  
"Destiny waits for no one; right fawkes." A chirp from the bird brought a small amount of comfort to him. Sighing deeply, dumbledore answered the phoenixes questioning gaze.  
  
"The light will surpass the darkness; no matter what." Dumbledore stroked the soft plumes while enjoying the warmth radiating from his companion. "The time is almost upon us. I just hope we're ready."  
  
***  
  
Friday 7th of September,  
What happened on the eve before the beginning of another adventure at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry changed my life forever. I learned the true menac behind the Dar - I mean Voldemort. Not the great ruler I was taught he would be, some high being that would ultimately rid the wizarding world of all the filth; but a viscious sadist.Unfortunately this was experienced first hand and let's just say that my eyes have opened to the evil plummeting towards the world at lightening speed.  
  
It all began just over a week ago, the soft glow of candle light was all the comfort I recieved from that shadowed room. The small amount of light, like flickering specks of good shrouded by darkness, not the comforting darkness of night; but like thick, black smoke that could smother the brightest of spirits. This room, I am ashamed to say, is a part of my home - no, that's not right - it was a part of the place where I grew up. Not that I've even experienced the luxuries of home, or what I believe it to be. That wonderous place of security in a loving environment, knowing that people, family love you for who you are, and not for what they expect of you.  
  
Take me for example, I Draco Malfoy want to have freedom of choice, to be able to choose my own destiny willingly, and know that my parents will love me unconditionally. But that is not the case. I do not desire to live in a world of war. However much this may surprise the public I wish to be just like any other child, carefree, mishievious, but most of all happy and innocent.  
  
I'll laugh at this point, laugh a bitter, lonely laugh at my expence. Ha!!! I, innocent, that's a laugh. And would you believe how much I value the whole 'Soul mate' and 'save your innocence until you find you true love' lines. I do ... Oh sure, I'll never be like the Golden Trio or Saint Potter, Stupid Golden Boy. But ... But through all the pressures and teachings that come with being the heir to Malfoy Manor and future Death Eater -Ahem _SLAVE!!!_ - to the Dar - I mean Voldemort; I did -believe it or not - want to wait for the right moment for any sexual motions with whoever I should fall in love with. Yeah ... you can all laugh now, but I am not soft. It's just something I've always prided myself on, though rather discreetly.  
  
It was something I prided myself on, until that night when it was so cruely taken away from me. On that cold and bitter night when not even the moon shone. The night my father, damn him to Hell, offered me on a platter, ME, his own SON!!! To his precious Lord like I'm some non feeling object for consumption!  
  
I HATE YOU!!!  
  
Merlin! How could he do this to me!?! He allowed that walking corpse to taint me! YES, I'M TAINTED NOW!!! I'M TAINTED BEYOND REDEMPTION!!!  
  
My father came back that night before the other Death Eaters, there had been a classic gathering, or what others - including myself - call a MudBlood Hunt. Although I still hate the filthy little MudBloods, I'll never be able to murder them, or Muggles. It's ... Oh Merlin ... The bloodshed ... it's so awful. Pained screams, yeah, I know what that feels like too. I might be the spoilt prince, but I know pain, I, the constant failure of my fathers dream of a prodigy. But now he's goe beyond anything remotely humane. My father - how I despise him- prepared me for my annitiation, my fathers goal to perfecting the Malfoy name and family honour.  
  
"Don't you want to please your father?" I remember him asking me while dragging me down to the candle lit hall. Only half awake, it wasn't hard. "He has chosen you especially, it is a great honour."  
  
Then we stepped into the place where my nightmare begins. I remember, dressed in nothing but a black silk robe seeing the thin lips of my father curl up into a cruel smirk, void of any mercy. I remember, the ice cold fingers brushing through my ruffled hair. Of course by this point I was wide awake and frightened. I could feel the sting in his words as his breath tickled my ear, I could sense the malice behind the words that will haunt me forever.  
  
"The Dark Lord has taken an 'unusual' interest in you Draco. Be accepted and allow our Lord the pleasure of doing whatever he desires. Do not disappoint me. I'm sure that, by the end, you will have enjoyed yourself also ..."  
  
Then that laugh that followed, barely above a whisper in my ear, but it was cold and chilling. Then ... Then he came ... and this is where my life changed forever.  
  
My father held onto my shoulder with bruising force, there was a 'pop', the candles flickered and were almost extinguist before the walking nightmare appeared with his robes of pure evil billowing around him. I could honestly say that at that point, I was absolutely terrified.  
  
My father had me kneel before the Dar - I mean Voldemort, with his hand still plastered on my shoulder. I couldn't struggle, I wanted to run as far as I could go, but I wouldn't get far. The wizard before me, looking down at me with a cruel twinkle in his slits for eyes, was all powerful. I would be dragged back kicking and screaming and then the pain would come. There was no point.  
  
So, Voldemort towered over my father and I with a twisted smirk. One long, bony hand brushed against my cheek before cupping my face. The hand, colder than the artic, forced my chin up so I had to gaze into those merciless pits. A small chilling chuckle came from the walking corpse.  
  
"You have brought perfection into this world Lucius." Hissed the walking corpse. " ... Perfection ..."  
  
The last word was like an ice shard, burying into my heart, destroying any last shred of hope I might have possessed. Voldemort pulled me to my feet and finally he released my face, only to wrap an arm around my waist. I knew then, I knew beyond any doubt, that I could not escape what fate had dealt me.  
  
Brittle nails dug into my side, pulling at the fabric that protected me from Voldemort. I stifle a whimper at the motion, knowing what he wants from me, what he will take. What he DID take. Ripping it from me without remorse.  
  
But the thing that pained me the most. It wasn't the fact of what he would do to me, that nobody cared, that no one would save me from my fate. It was that before Voldemort apparated us to his personal chambers in his hideout, I caught a glance of my father. The way his eyes glittered, not with tears for my loss, but with greed at his gain.  
  
I always knew that my parents never loved me. That my father only wanted a perfect heir and my mother just simply despised me. That look, not one of sadness but of evil pleasure. He knew what happened to me and he allowed it, he let Voldemort.  
  
That night was the longest I have ever had to endure, even worse than when my father would punish me. And once I was returned, my father pulled me close, like one who actually cared.Then he spoke ...  
  
"You are now ... an honour to the Malfoy name ... You are my perfection ..."  
  
Oh how I wish I could have hurt him. I would have scratched his eyes out. I would have thrown the Cruciatus curse on him. I wish I could throw him in the fiery pits of Hell and watch as he lived the torment that would be his pitiful life. No, pitiful exsistance.  
  
I could have cried that night. I could have screamed and fought back. I could have surrendered to Voldemort that very night. Embraced the darknes that will eventually suffocate the world. But I didn't. He may have tainted me, but I'm not that easy to sway.  
  
And now, just over a week later, and I received a letter from dear old daddy informing me of my regulated visits to the hideout. He also used his advanced skills to persuade me not to tell a soul. In other words. He threatened me.  
  
I can't do a thing to stop him. I can't fight back, but I can't allow others to suffer the same fate as myself. No one deserves to go through what I did, not even, not even Saint Potter.  
  
Now that's saying alot.  
  
I can't stop my destiny, but I can sure gain my freedom. I just obtain the right information and give it to the right people.  
  
I don't know when, I don't know how, but ... I have to try.  
  
No matter what, I won't become my father.  
  
That's a promise. A promise to myself.  
  
Draco.  
  
***  
  
In his despair Draco almost tossed the magically binded journal on the floor, but then remembered the contents and so placed it by his feet.  
  
"I won't become my father ..." A soft, almost broken voice spoke in the solitude of the night.  
  
Perched on the windowsill to gaze at the night sky, Draco Malfoy could see the full moon shining as brightly as possible.  
  
" ... Hope ... Why couldn't you have given me hope that night?"  
  
Draco had heard sometime in his youth, long ago, that the moon symbolised hope in the darkness. Now it was shining brightly, for all lost and in despair to see. But that night, not even a glimmer shot through the evil.  
  
Draco let a soft sob escape, and pulled his legs closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around them to draw all the comfort he could. For now he was nothing more than a toy, there for convenience and then tossed aside like something worthless.  
  
"Nothing ... I'm worth nothing ..."  
  
Another sob wracked his slim, almost wasted body. Ever since that night, Draco had hardly eaten, barely slept and was now nothing more than a whimpering coward.  
  
'He's gonna take me again ...' Draco thought with a heartbreaking sob 'Every weekend ...'  
  
Tears that had been held back for so many years, finally exploded in an unstoppable tidal wave. More and more came. All the pain, the misery, the loneliness, all shown through these crystal tears. But as he shed them, there was no one to hold him, to tell him it was all gonna be ok. No one who cared.  
  
Draco sneered and wiped the tears away, furious with himself. No one was going to help him, he had to help himself. He knew how to manipulate. He would just have to use his intimate position with Voldemort to gain what he needed to stop him.  
  
Weaknesses and the location of the actual hideout. Draco had been there only once, and had only seen the interior. Since he had been apparated there and back, he had no idea where Voldemort was actually hiding.  
  
But he would find out. And then ...  
  
"I'll think of who to tell later on." Draco mused. "But why spy? What if I get caught, what would be the point?"  
  
The answer came in his mind before the question full escaped his lips.  
  
' ... Freedom ... '  
  
Draco was not only estatic with the idea of gaining his freedom, but he was also terrified. Even if he managed to somehow bring down Voldemort. What then ... ?  
  
'It doesn't matter.' Draco decided, 'Think about that later on ... If I were to spy, which is practically suicidal in itself. What would I do with the information?'  
  
The answer popped into his head.  
  
'Who is Voldemort afraid of?' His fathers voice floated across his mind. 'Why that muggle loving fool ...'  
  
"... Albus Dumbledore ..."  
  
Draco then shivered slightly.  
  
"I couldn't tell Dumbledore, he'd never believe me ... I'll have to do it discreetly. But how?"  
  
Silver eyes fell upon some parchment and a quill.  
  
"Perfect. I'll send it anonymously."  
  
With that decided. Draco tucked thejournal away and then stretched out on his bed. Eyes closing slowly, Draco began to think of a pen name.  
  
'Spying against Voldemort ... what to name myself? How about, muggle lover ... No way! ... Er ... something to do with spying ...'  
  
A yawn escaped as the world around Draco began to darken.  
  
'Why Spy ... ?' The question floated into his tired mind. 'No, not Why Spy ... But -'  
  
The answer was breathed as Draco finally sucumbed to the darkness.  
  
"YSpy ..."  
  
***  
  
Was blinded by hope, now the illusion's shattered.  
  
I've never been able to think so clearly, I see all.  
  
No where to run, to hide, to confide,  
  
To tell tales of woe, before the fall.  
  
********  
  
I don't know, I did it again. Another idea for another story. Well, what did you think? Is this worth me continuing? ^___^;;; 


	2. A shadows Destiny

Sorry this took so long. I heard people were believing that this was discontinued. Not true. This chappies long for all those who've waited patiently.  
  
**Chapter two - A shadow's destiny.**  
  
When fearing of what tomorrow may bring, one tends to wish for a small miracle. Usually, it involves delaying the sun from rising or simply freezing time altogether. Well, for Draco Malfoy, he wished that this fine Saturday morning never arrived, and with good reason too. But unfortunately for him, time doesn't stop for anyone.  
  
"Come on Draco! Wake up! Or we'll go and get breakfast without you!"  
  
Blond hair lay in a mess framing his flushed and sweaty face, eyes squeezed shut trying to block out the annoying light with legs tangled in his twisted blanket. For anyone who had any common sense, it would indicate rather clearly that Draco had trouble sleeping that night.  
  
"Come on Draco!" The large lump known as Goyle moaned, shaking the blond Slytherin non too gently.  
  
Draco groaned blindly searching for something to block out his lackeys constant whining while trying desperately to cling onto the last remnants of sleep. His lip curled up in triumph as he found the perfect item.  
  
"Go away!" Draco groaned, aiming the pillow in Goyles direction.  
  
Hearing the impact Draco grinned and snuggled into his blanket, sighing contentedly. The dark warmth of sleep began shrouding the dragon but before he could succumb to this blissful state he was yanked back to reality with a bump.  
  
"GOYLE!" Draco roared from his new position on the floor, tangled up in the blanket.  
  
Goyle tried to looked innocent but failed miserably, his eyes were sparkling mischievously while he twiddled with the corner of Draco's blanket he now held. A half smile, half smirk became apparent as Crabbe joined them.  
  
"Whoa, what happened to you?!" He exclaimed, vainly trying to hide his laughter as he took in the flushed face and mussed blond hair of his friend who was now sitting on the floor.  
  
Draco growled with embarrassment and scrambled to his feet.  
  
"Stop laughing and tidy my bed!" Draco ordered trying to reclaimed his lost dignity. "I'm going to get ready."  
  
Draco huffed and stormed to the bathroom with silk black robes just for the occasion. As soon as the other Slytherin was out of ear shot, Crabbe and Goyle burst into fits of giggles.

888

At the same time in the Gryffindor sleeping quarters for year six boys, the- boy-who-lived sat in silence as he waited for the rising of his friends. Looking down at the grounds, he thought back to the time in year three when he saw his Godfather in his animagus form from this very window. He remembered how he believed him to be a curse for death.  
  
'......And I accused him of murdering my parents.'  
  
A small cry from his companion brought him out of his memories. A small, hollow laugh came from his lips as he focused on his owl if but for a moment. Ever since the death of Sirius, he'd been drowned by grief, swallowed by his guilt and submerged in his hatred for his killer. All summer he had been brewing in his blind rage, plotting ways to avenge his godfather. At other times, he would be overwhelmed by his guilt and be on a self pity cruise. Either way he had not paid attention to the normal taunts of his relatives, nor had he been bothered to read and answer mail from his friends. In the end Arthur Weasley, along with Ron; Fred and George came to visit, and brought him back to the burrow. At the burrow things had been the same as always, extremely busy and chaotic. Unfortunately it did nothing to bring him out of his constant brooding. Now, brought back to his 'home', Harry had hoped it would distract him enough.  
  
It hadn't.  
  
"I thought I would love returning here." Harry sighed, his fingers brushing along Hedwigs soft feathers, "But I just can't stop thinking about Sirius ...... How it's all my fault."  
  
Hedwig seemed to sense Harrys one way ticket to self pity, and nipped his finger, hard. Harry hissed and glared at his pet. Wide, black eyes stared back just as menacingly but laced with concern aswell. After thirty seconds, Harry gave up and turned away with a tired sigh. Hedwig would usually have chirped with victory over her master but knew that now was not the time for such childishness. She hopped closer to her master and gazed imploringly into his averted, but teary eyes. Hedwig chirped softly while rubbing her head on his arm in a gesture of comfort. A shudder wracked Harrys small frame as he felt the built up pressure of pain overpower his will to contain it. Shimmering tears flowed down flushed cheeks. Each being soaked up in his pajamas once they had fallen.  
  
"C-coming back here, it just makes it worse!" Harry sobbed, turning his tear stained face to his feathery friend, the silent one who he could trust anything with. "Everything about this place reminds me. If I hadn't have been so stupid!"  
  
Sensing her masters distress, Hedwig jumped into her masters lap, allowing the boy to pour out his heart only in her presence. Allowing her friend to pull her closer and seek comfort in the soft plumes as the peaceful silence of dawn slowly came to a close.

888

The anger had disapperated as soon as he remembered the days agenda. Draco was currently sitting at the Slytherin table picking at his food suffering from depression. Each egg, sausage and bacon became victim to Draco's fork, which stabbed mercilessly into each item of food as his mind drifted to what was to come.  
  
"Hey Draco, you gonna eat that or what?" Snapped out of his trance, Draco turned to the one who had spoken.  
  
"Crabbe, even if I wasn't, I wouldn't give it to you; you brainless moron!" Draco snapped agitatedly. Once Draco had fully awaken and was fully dressed, he realised that it was barely morning. The sun had just risen and he was fairly pissed.  
  
Ever since that time, they had spent at least the last three hours in the great hall. Crabbe and Goyle continuously ate, whereas Draco merely felt his rising fear tumble in his stomach making him feel physically sick. The robes he was currently wearing made him feel as if he were heading to a funeral. In a way, thought Draco; he was.  
  
He was so submerged in his fear, that he didn't notice the chattering groups enter the hall, nor the usual hustle and bustle that came with the morning. The owls swooped in, but he didn't notice; he didn't even hear McGonagal as she spoke to him.  
  
"Did you hear what I said Mr. Malfoy?" She asked, clearly agitated with having to speak with the Slytherin.  
  
"Huh?" He replied dumbly, lifting his eyes from his mashed food for the second time that morning. McGonagal sighed rubbing her temple with a wrinkling hand.  
  
"I said Mr. Malfoy, that Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you. You'll have to leave in ten minutes."  
  
Draco Malfoy gracefully rose; silently accepting his fate as he followed the middle aged witch to Dumbledores office. To his fireplace. To his ticket to doom. As he left, he wasn't worried about what the other Slytherins would say, for they knew that Draco Malfoy was visiting his sick mother. That is what his father had said. So they wouldn't ask any stupid questions or to raise suspicions among the Death Eaters potentials, or their parents. It seemed that the high-and-mighty Dark Lord wanted to keep his lust a dirty little secret. For anyone who asked, Draco was visiting his mother as often as possible without affecting his education; and that was all that was to be said. Although, as he left the great hall, he didn't notice the eyes of a certain golden trio watching his back.

888

"Well I guess that Dumbledore just wants to keep every possible weak point checked. Like the ministry, and possibly keep tabs on the floo network and you of course........"  
  
"But that still doesn't explain why he keeps me in the dark?" Harry objected, interrupting Hermione in one of her I-know-everything-you-know- nothing-speeches-so-pay-attention. In Hermiones book, that was a sacrilege.  
  
"Harry if you'd stop interrupting me I'd tell you. Dumbledore is just trying to........"  
  
".....Keep us safe." Harry and Ron finished with monotone voices, hearing the speech a thousand times.  
  
"But does that mean that Dumbledore doesn't trust us? I mean, I'm supposed to be the powerful boy-who-lived, the one who's supposed to murder Voldemort--!"  
  
"Harry!" Ron gasped, having never got used to hearing that name spoken out loud, "Not ... Not ..." Harry ignored the stuttering red head and continued as if he had not been interrupted.  
  
"--and they're all treating me like I'm a baby that needs to be wrapped up in cotton wool. How can I do as I'm expected if no one trusts me, and don't say that 'Dumbledore does trust me' Hermione." Hermione closed her mouth again and lowered her finger, as if she were about to give her input, "Cause he doesn't. If he had trusted me before then Sirius wouldn't..........."  
  
Harry closed his mouth as soon as the name of his godfather escaped him; but he couldn't take back the words that had spilled so carelessly from his lips. He had just blamed Dumbledore for the murder of Sirius Black when he knew full well that the guilt lied with him and him alone.  
  
Hermione and Ron shared a knowing glance, a glance of sympathy for their mourning friend. Although this was the first outspoken Harry had ever come to about the death of Sirius, they knew he was an emotional wreak inside. His mind was in turmoil as his heart shattered once more. They knew their friend had been through too much heartache for one so young, his life was a tragedy and to make it worse he blamed himself for it all.  
  
"Harry...." Hermione whispered carefully, laying a kind hand on his own gently. Harry looked up and let Hermiones warm, re-assuring brownish eyes and Rons wonky smile comfort him, "......It wasn't Dumbledores fault, it wasn't your fault either......his death was a terrible tragedy and he will be avenged, that is a promise."  
  
A small smile flitted across the almost gaunt face. He hadn't been eating properly; not even at the burrow. The death of Sirius Black had changed alot in Harry. To Harry, Sirius was like the end of a dark and gloomy tunnel, the place of hope. Now it was ripped from him and he was submerged in the painful life of his once more. But, he was now beginning to realise, he always had his friends. Ever since Hogwarts, they had never left him; and he was eternally grateful for that. They were his lifeguard in a sea of misery.  
  
"Hey, where's Malfoy going?" Ron asked suddenly, breaking the peaceful moment between the three friends, "And what the hell is he wearing?!"  
  
Harry and Hermione looked over to the Slytherin table where indeed the pale Slytherin was leaving the great hall wearing entirely black. In a strange way black suited the blond, Harry noted.  
  
"It looks like he's going to a funeral or something!" Hermione said matter- of-factly, though in her tone the worry could be sensed. That's what Harry liked most about the witch, she cared about absolutely anyone. Ron however.......  
  
"Good!" Ron spat, glaring at the spot where Malfoy had left with his black cloak billowing behind him, "The ferret deserves any pain he gets!"  
  
"Ron! That's horrible, nobody deserves to mourn over a lost one. No matter who it is!" Hermione admonished, glaring daggers at the freckled boy.  
  
"No wonder he's been acting so strange lately." Harry added thoughtfully, "I mean, if he is mourning, that is....."  
  
"Well something is definitely wrong." Hermione stated, as if that confirmed their thoughts, "I mean, the other day in Arithmancy, he just stared into space throughout the entire lesson. Usually Malfoy at least pays some attention in class."  
  
"I know, and did you notice, that he hasn't spat any nasty comments! He hasn't picked one single fight all week! Not even in potions!" Harry added.  
  
"I kind of feel sorry for him....." Hermione breathed, while leaning on her hand in depression mode. If it wasn't for the long sigh afterwards Harry and Ron might have thought they had misheard.  
  
"Hello!" Ron snapped, glaring at Hermione after her confession, "This is Malfoy we're talking about here!"  
  
Harry stared at a point behind his two friends as they began to bicker. It seemed strange but no matter how much he tried to deny it there was a little voice in the back of his head that agreed with Hermione. With a snort of disbelief Harry stamped it out of his head, just in time to hear the end of the argument.  
  
".............You're acting so childish Ronald Weasley!" Hermione hissed, before leaving the table. Ron humphed and turned to Harry.  
  
"Girls and their hormones....." He muttered, "I'll never get it."  
  
Harry chuckled and nodded as his friend rambled on, forgetting the ice prince of Slytherin and the thought of death.

888

In his office Professor Dumbledore stared over the rim of his tea cup without the twinkle his sea blue eyes usually possessed. They were studying every move the blond Slytherin made, trying to discover any hidden messages in his stance. Draco Malfoy stared back at him, his cool composure contrasting violently against the grayish - blue eyes which were flaring with emotion. A thousand unreadable emotions whirred behind those irises in a turbulent storm. Not a hint was given to the aging Gryffindor, it was like a block of ice was wedged between them. The worlds greatest wizard knew that something was not quite right with this situation, but couldn't confront the boy - for he was known for his 'tales' - and so had to be subtle in his enquires.  
  
"So Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore began, indicating a seat to the aristocrat, "Tea? ... A lemon drop, perhaps?"  
  
Sitting down, Draco stared at the wizard as though he had grown an extra head, then his eyes slid to the tin full of lemon drops. He had never heard of the strange looking yellow sweets. Then again, Professor Dumbledore was a well known muggle lover.  
  
"No thank you." Draco muttered, glaring at the suspected muggle sweets with disgust, "I really must get home, father will be expecting me. He does not like to be kept waiting."  
  
"Indeed." Professor Dumbledore agreed, watching the boy glaring at the harmless sweets with amusement, "But there is time for ... a quick talk..."  
  
He let his words float on the air, staring intently into the grayish storm knowing that he had captured the blond youths attention. Confusion and suspicion were the only thoughts circling the boys mind. His father had warned him of Dumbledore's awareness and persistance. Idle conversations with the old coot - as his father had dubbed him - were not as innocent as one would think.  
  
"About ...?" Draco asked cautiously.  
  
Dumbledore took a deep breath, and inwardly sighed. The boy was too suspicious for his own good, and he knew he would have to tread this terrain very carefully. One wrong move could prove fatal.  
  
"You, how are you coping?" Dumbledore asked casually, taking another sip of his tea while surveiling Draco. The boys eyes, Dumbledore noted, flicked down for a second, his fine brows furrowing ever so slightly in confusion. It was as if the boy had never been asked something so trivial before.  
  
"I'm fine." Draco answered slowly, unsure of what to say.  
  
"That's good to hear. Your studies are going well. Any idea of what you wish to become?" Professor Dumbledore asked, feeling more confident.  
  
"I hadn't really thought about it." Draco answered honestly. It was sort of the truth, the only career ever laid before him was to follow his father. To become a death eater. He had never thought of anything else, he could never disobey his father; so there was no point. He was surprisingly embarrassed at the thought, he was in year six and had no thought of what he wanted to become, most knew at that stage. But then again, they had independent thoughts; were allowed to lead their own lives.  
  
He suddenly didn't like where this conversation was going, and was somewhat frightened of the consequences if he allowed it to continue. Draco quickly searched for any excuse to escape the increasingly uncomfortable situation. The man before him made him feel very unsure of himself, as if he were not in control; and he despised that feeling.  
  
"I must get going." He said, trying hard not to stutter or lose his pose of confidence, "My father--!"  
  
"Yes your father ... How is he bearing up Draco?" Dumbledore asked lightly, his twinkling blue eyes boring into his own making Draco feel extremely nervous, "I heard there was a family crisis ...?"  
  
"My mother has taken ill, not that it is any of your business!" Draco snapped, unable to handle the questioning gaze anymore, "That is why I have to be home, to be there for her."  
  
Draco stood up, black cape billowing behind him as he gracefully strode to the roaring fire. Professor Dumbledore watched him, a small silent sigh escaping his lips. The boy was closing in on himself again. But for a second, a flicker of uncertainty shone through those stormy gray eyes. The boy took a pinch of floo powder from the ceramic pot and stepped into the fireplace. Dumbledore stood aswell and rounded the desk to see the boy off.  
  
"Listen to me, your path might be different." Dumbledore lectured softly, knowing his words impacted hard as the boy gasped and his eyes widened in shock. Dumbledore pressed further, "I do not believe you were meant to become a shadow, Draco."  
  
Twinkling eyes stared the turbulent storm down, and for a fraction of a second, Dumbledore could blatantly see the frightened little boy behind the mask of arrogance. But before he could pry further, the boy was whisked away with the sound of his trembling voice and a flaring green flame.

888

He heard the words from Dumbledore, and his once in control mind was somewhat thrown off balance. In other words, he became an emotional wreak. Whizzing round and round through the floo network, he waited with rising apprehension and a cold feeling of dread. Before he could blink, he was home; thrown unceremoniously from the fireplace onto the marble floor of the hall. Sprawled carelessly on the cool surface, Draco tried to capture his once lost composure while taking deep breaths and clutching his heart. He had always despised the Floo Network. Suddenly, a shadow shrouded the youth, and a silky smooth voice filled the silence.  
  
"Welcome home my son."  
  
Draco suppressed a shudder and glanced up into the steel cold eyes of his father. He could see the malicious glint in those frozen depths, along with the slight curl of his thin lips. The older man towered over him reminding Draco of Dumbledore's parting words. Lucius forced the boy to his feet, gripping one slender arm with bruising strength. The small twitch of his lips became a full fledged smirk. Draco tried to out stare his father, feeling a little rebellious, but knowing deep down he could not. After what seemed like an eternity; Draco finally lowered his gaze to the floor, knowing that those piercing eyes would never waver. He could feel them boring into his skull, even as he had submitted himself. Draco tried not to flinch as he heard the other man chuckle at his expense. Smooth skin curled under his chin and forced Draco to look into his fathers eyes once more.  
  
"Good boy ..." The man breathed, "Know your place ... my beautiful son."  
  
He released his grip on Draco's arm, and pulled out his wand. Holding Draco's chin, he let his wand hover over the body of his son, mumbling a few well chosen spells as he went. Just minutes later, Draco looked immaculate once more, stunningly beautiful but deadly in those fine black robes.  
  
"Much better." Lucius murmured into the boys pale ear. He chuckled once more as despite all efforts a fine shudder trembled through his sons lithe form. Lucius then released the boys face so that he could look his son in the eyes. He held his hand out.  
  
"Wand." He ordered. Draco, who was on the edge of loosing all control, gasped silently at his fathers command.  
  
"W-what?" He stuttered, unable to believe; to grasp what his father was asking. He hadn't been parted from his wand since it was first bought; but not only that, it would mean he would be completely helpless against the Dark Lord.  
  
"Your wand, Draco." Lucius repeated sternly, rather agitated. Draco knew he did not like to repeat himself. Draco stepped back frightened; his mind reeling with the prospect of him facing the Dark Lord without a wand.  
  
"But Father--!"  
  
"Accio Wand!" Lucius snapped, pointing his wand at the boy. Draco's wand flew into a graceful arch, avoiding Draco's attempts to grab it, and soared into his fathers opening palm.  
  
Lucius stepped towards the boy who was now frozen with fright. He grabbed Draco's arm as soon as he was within reach dragging the boy closer. He seethed. His son had learned a long time ago never to disobey him, but now ...  
  
"Never. Ever, disobey me!" He hissed, his voice radiating how furious he was, "From now on everytime you are to come home you are to give me your wand without question. Do you understand me!"  
  
He squeezed Draco's arm to prove his point. He heard the boy wince in pain before he lowered his head in defeat. Lucius would have punished the boy further but knew that time was ticking. It was not wise to leave the Dark Lord waiting.  
  
"We must be off." He said, switching back to business, "We can't keep our Lord waiting, can we."  
  
He pulled the boy to his chest, wrapping one arm around his son's thin waist while the other revealed a charm that was hidden under his shirt. With Lucius shouting 'Serpent!' they were whisked away to the Dark Lords sanctuary.

888

Somewhere far away, the Dark Lord stood tall, watching the frozen wasteland. Safely within the stone cold walls of his icy sanctuary, eyes wander studying the bitter cold wind lash out mercilessly, as he soon would to this pitiful world. For this wizard, all was once again; at a standstill, the precious time of waiting for the opportune moment before striking like a predator. It was now time for another attempt at devouring the clueless prey. For in the past, whenever the hunter pounced with calculating brilliance, accuracy and strength; the prey would find some unbelievable way to ellude the attack. It had become a vicious cycle of power verses virtue, love verses hatred and light verses darkness. It has become the ultimate battle of good verses evil that neither side can escape until the other destroyed.  
  
At that revelation, the thin lips twitched slightly upwards, and a low chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat. The war would quench his undying bloodlust, at least for a little while. Oh how he couldn't wait for that day to feel the warm blood run through his fingers and to savor that coppery taste. To feel bones crushing under his weight as blood curdling screams ripped through the tangible sky, and to mark it as his own, with the ever looming Dark Mark. His loyal Death Eaters would be destroying everything in their path, and as he looked up at the graying world, all worthless life would be crying out in vain, for Lord Voldemort holds no pity, no mercy. But that wouldn't be the best bit, looking back down at the dusty ground, cowering at his feet would be a lone boy, blubbering unintelligible words as blood dribbles down from a head gash, down his dirty face, to be tasted by the boy himself as it flowed through his trembling lips. Bruised and bleeding arms wrapped weakly around his slim torso as shudders ceased to leave him be. Eyes of a green meadow stared up at him, wide with fear and despair, but it only lasted a few precious seconds, as the boys head finally lowers in defeat.  
  
A sudden knock on the rotting wooden door snapped him from his fantasies and back into reality. He wasn't winning the ultimate war, Dumbledore wasn't dead and Harry Potter was not cowering before him. Blood began to boil as he remembered how he was currently hiding away like some piteous creature, recuperating from the last encounter with the stupid Golden Boy.  
  
All was still once more, but he knew he was not alone. Every faithful follower knew to wait patiently after knocking and would wait there until summoned. With a simple flick of his wrist, the door swung open noisily banging loudly against the stone wall, rattling precariously on rusted hinges. Standing in the doorway was a Death Eater, shrouded from the world with a cloak of shadow. This cloak kept his identity hidden from all except the Dark Lord, for he knows all. Next to him, stood Draco Malfoy. Breathtakingly beautiful in the clothes that were provided for him, head bowed slightly in respect.  
  
"Come forward, child." The Dark Lord ordered.  
  
The blond did as he was asked, though his movements were somewhat stiff, as if he were under the imperius curse and walking forward against his will. But he knew that was not the case, the boy was frightened, repulsed even; but he would soon learn to enjoy the pleasure. The boys eyes were still focused on the stone floor as he stood before his Lord. The Dark Lord did not appreciate this, as he wanted to see those stormy eyes once more. He wanted to see the boy's expressions flitter across his face as he touched that milky soft skin. With a glare to the other, the Death Eater standing at the door was silently dismissed, the rotting wooden door closing noisily behind the man as he left his son to his Lord.  
  
Now that they were alone, The Dark Lord took his time in appraising the lithe figure before him. With one scaly hand, he grasped the fine platinum tresses and tugged downwards, jerking his head up so that he could gaze into those emotional orbs once more. Draco gasped slightly, but other than that, was completely unresponsive. The Dark Lord watched the widening eyes with fasination; they were so beautiful compared with the emerald eyes of the golden boy. For now he could not destroy that annoying thorn in his side, but for now it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he could release all of his anger, his stress and lust on this beautiful creature.  
  
He had to taste the boy, he had decided, and so he did. He crushed his thin lips to those soft, pale-pink lips that were so full and tasted so wonderful. This was better than he remembered from just over a week ago. While cradling the boy possessively, the other finally left the soft strands of gold to tug at the boys jaw. He had to have more. The boy was teasing him, he refused to open his mouth when his tongue requested. The Dark Lords fingers clenched Draco's jaw in a vice grip, and then the arm wrapped around his waist crushed the boy against his body. Draco whimpered in pain, and at the slight opening of his mouth, the Dark Lord squeezed the jaw bone, prying it open further and delving into that delicious warm cavern that he had come to crave. With every touch, he was drawing wonderful moans from the boy, but the boy was not playing. His tongue sought out Draco's and jabbed at it, but the other wouldn't comply. The Dark Lord became impatient, and drew his tongue back only to bite down on Draco's bottom lip. His tongue peeked back out of his mouth to lap up the blood now flowing freely, chuckling as he heard the other gasp and then felt him try to pull away. Soon, the Dark Lord was smirking into a passionate kiss, relishing in the duel now taking place inside their mouths.  
  
But after a moment it was not enough, he left those kiss bruised lips to suckle at the boys smooth neck, tasting the smooth skin and feeling the small shivers he was drawing out. His hands roamed the taut body. His brows narrowed as he suddenly realised the boy was still fully dressed and began to change that. He gently guided Draco to the bed, but never stopped fondling the other as they went. The back of Draco's legs hit the mattress and the Dark Lord forced the youth to lie down on the large bed. He straddled the boy, capturing not only his waist but his arms too. Then he set to work stripping the boy and 'appraising' him further, not in the least disturbed by the boy's pitiful struggles or his worthless cries. 


	3. Playing Chicken

Disclaimer. I don't own any of the characters and settings in Harry Potter. Although Dominic Anderson is created by me and of course the plot is mine. Haha.

Okay I just have to apologize for the lateness of this chapter, I know that no excuse is plausable for the extent of which this has taken, but I would just like to inform my fans that I wasn't sure what to do with the theme of the relationship with Voldemort and Draco, if you know what I mean. Especially now with all the stories being cut because of sexual content. I think I've solved my dilemna now, and so updates will come more frequently. I sincerely hope you aren't put off by my lack of writing on this fic. I have been paying attention to it, I just didn't know what to do.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Hope you enjoy.

Responses.

Taenika: Here's the next chapter. I think I agree with you, the theme is extremely sad.

Michele Malfoy: To be honest, I didn't realize how difficult it would be, but now that I do, the chapters will be regular. I hope you'll stick with the story.

Gaboo: I'm posting now, and future chapters will be coming a lot quicker.

Viridiana: I'm glad you like this, at first I wasn't sure, but now I know. Anyway, it might be a Harry/Draco fic aswell as Draco/Voldemort.

Miscreant: As I said, I'm not sure about it being a Harry/Draco fic. I'll probably decide later with a vote. Best way to solve things really. I'm really sorry this took so long, but the next one won't.

RubyMoon17: I've updated now, and the next chapters will be posted more quickly. I hope you like this chapter.

Crimsontears: Here's more, and more will be on the way soon. I'm not so sure about Dumbledore dying though.

More Than One Spy

Chapter three - Playing Chicken.

Usually, Harry's dreams were misty but with a vague feeling of happiness and tranquility, except on those special occasions when his scar became scorching to his vulnerable mind. This was one of those exceptions. His misty dream became as sharp as reality, he felt as if he had been traveling by floo powder as a wave of dizziness hit him and soon found himself in a shadowed room.

It was eerily quiet and noticeably cold in the room. The floor and walls were made out of stone and the only furnishings were the king-size mahogany bed and the shredded curtains that fluttered as the open window -that was more like a hole in the wall- let in another wave of chilled air.

His eyes seemed to slide of their own accord towards the bed that on closer inspection could just about see the silhouette of a figure lying flat on its back. There was a small moan; that was no more than a whisper on the wind, followed by a slight shift as the figure awoke.

"Ah...so you are finally awake." He heard the familiar, haunting hiss of his enemy escape from his own lips, "...My pleasure too..._overwhelming_...I suppose."

Whoever was lying on the bed flinched and tried to move but to no avail. A sinister laugh escaped his own mouth and Harry Potter felt his mind panic with the sudden knowledge that this was actually happening. Harry tried to escape but was unable to. He tried to stop but Voldemort was in control and Harry could only watch helplessly as he walked over to the large bed.

The person was obviously male, and rather young. Tall, lean, and with a beauty about him that made him not feminine, but graceful and precious. Fragile, even. Bruised wrists were seemingly pulled above his head but that couldn't be right as there was no visible signs of restraint. Voldemort held out an old, decaying hand to brush against the almost ethereal skin. His fingers trailed further down and Harry could feel the goose bumps scattered across the warm flesh until he reached the only thing that protected the figures dignity; a small, thin sheet. The male flinched under the small touch and Harry could feel his lips curl up in satisfaction.

_No, please. Don't let this happen. _Harry silently begged. Voldemort sat on the side of the bed, and Harry could feel its softness, vividly reminding him of how terrifyingly real this was. His hand brushed against the coarse green scarf that was wrapped around the figures eyes in an almost loving manner.

"I gave you this to make it easier, even though I adore your eyes." He murmured, his hands shifted to the thin wrists and now Harry could understand why they were bruised the way they were; the heavy manacles were invisible, "And these are just a precaution..."

His hand moved on Voldemorts thoughts, down a cold cheek to twine his bony finger around a lock of shadowed hair. The figure shuddered at the motion and Voldemort smiled.

"You are so precious..." He breathed, "So beautiful..."

He leant down, Harry could feel the others breath and saw how his own fingers curled under the slightly pointed chin. Harry knew what was about to happen, he prayed for it to stop. _Any interruption would do. Anything! _

"And you taste..." He hissed, "_Perfect_."

Now his lips were pressed against the other. _STOP!..._ Harry's mind cried out, but the body he was residing in ignored his silent plea. Harry could feel his lips moving against the others quivering ones. His hand was tugging at the others mouth, forcing access. Then his tongue entered this unfamiliar place, sliding passed pearly white teeth to probe at soft muscle.

_Nonononono...Oh! _Harry felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as something inside of him began to react to the foreign touches he was experiencing and suddenly the nightmare wasn't so vile anymore. It was far in the distance, but Harry absently noted the soft, smooth skin beneath his wandering hand.

Lower and lower his hand went, running over the rippling muscle, passed a small belly button towards...Towards...

A plain white ceiling.

_Wha...? _

A groan escaped his lips as he still felt the lingering effects of the latest addiction to, 'What's On Voldemorts Mind!' Harry scrunched his eyes against the early rays of Sunday morning as his scorching scar became little more than a tingling nuisance, clenched his fists as they itched to feel the warm flesh again and practically whimpered as he felt himself twitch at the overwhelming onslaught of unbelievable feelings.

_W--What was that! _Was the only thing Harry's mind could think of.

He had heard about those sort of feelings, thought that love and lust was dramatized by love-sick fools when he had that crush on Cho. He had thought about the pretty girl and had tried to date her once, but compared with what he had just felt. It was like when he first went flying. No, it was more than that. It was...

It was...

_It was Voldemort kissing someone. _Harry suddenly felt violently sick, _Oh Merlin...It was Voldemort ABUSING someone._

Harry sat bolt upright, eyes bulging out of their sockets with a clammy hand plastered over his trembling lips. Harry remembered the bitingly cold manacles and the way he reflexively flinched under the smallest of touches. The blindfold and ghostly pale skin laid bare for all to see...

Voldemort was the rapist and Harry was a vile Peeping Tom, nothing more than a dirty Voyeur.

A cry that could only be described as animalistic tore at his parched throat through quaking lips as Harry felt the contents of his stomach churn nauseatingly. Harry literally threw himself out of bed and ran for the bathroom with nothing but confusing thoughts rattling around his mind.

**888**

Sunday was a blur and thankfully Harry had no nightmares that night, but no matter what he did he couldn't get his mind off the bare, pale flesh, the horror and guilt. Monday morning came in a flash and with alot of commotion in the Great Hall, as no one really wanted to go to lessons. With the exception of Hermione Granger, of course.

"Oh look! We've got Tranfigurations straight after lunch, followed by arithmancy! That should be exhilarating!"

"...Of course." Ron mumbled around a mouthful of toast, "Cause we all _love _to go to lessons!"

With the exception of Harry and Hermione, all Gryffindors sniggered, avoiding the stern glare of their over enthusiastic house-mate.

"Well I never!" She huffed, "You Ronald Weasley should appreciate the knowledge we learn everyday, it could be very useful. And don't speak with food in your mouth, it's impolite!"

Ron was about to answer back, but a hand suddenly cuffed him upside his head and another round of giggles erupted around the table.

"Ow!" Ron exclaimed indignantly at Hermione who was looking all too innocent, "Hermione!"

"Yes Ron?" She asked with a sweet voice.

"Errr..." He saw the look in her eyes that warned others to back off or pay dearly, and Ron was known for his cowardness, "Never mind."

"Okay." She turned back to her timetable and her brown eyebrows furrowed slightly in irritation, "...We have double potions first..."

"WHAT?" Ron practically shrieked, before calming down a little, "Potions...first thing...on a _Monday morning!_"

"Yes and you know that Professor Snape will want nothing less than perfection in his class if we are to pass our finals."

"We're doomed." Ron groaned, his head slumping into his hands.

"Oh there's more..." Hermione stated.

"What could be worse?" Ron asked piteously.

Hermione picked up her glass of pumpkin juice and took a sip before answering the red-head.

"We're with the Slytherins."

THUMP

"Owwww..." Ron moaned, lifting his head from the table, his forhead splattered with tomatoe ketchup and bacon strips as his head slammed against the table.

Everyone within range saw the anger and resignation on Ron's face. The sight was so comical that everyone burst out laughing. Everyone, except Harry that is, and only one person noticed as Ron cleaned himself up with a nearby napkin. Warm, brown eyes with that concern of a dear friend stared at Harry who was poking at his food randomly, seeming to be caught up in somekind of trance.

"Harry, are you alright?" She asked softly, placing her hand ontop of Harry's to shake him out of whatever thoughts occupied him.

"Huh? What?" Was the stunned reply, snatching his hand back and placing it in his lap, "Hermione?"

"A penny for your thoughts?" She enquired, her eyes softening the statement so that Harry knew she was not trying to pry into his personal life. She was just offering him an olive branch should he need it.

"Everything's fine 'Mione. Just thinking how I'm going to survive Snape's wrath this time." He said, trying to lighten the mood, "If he'd had it his way I'd be butchered by now."

"Maybe, but it's not up to him." Was Ron's determined answer, "Though if it were up to _me..._Imagine all the things I could do to avenge every snide remark that's come out of that slimy mouth."

"Unfortunately for you it's not." Hermione said, rising to her feet and swinging her bag over her shoulder, "And we'd better be going, we don't want to be late for our first class of the year!"

Harry stood, following Hermione with his mind elsewhere. Ron was talking to him, but he wasn't paying much attention, only agreeing with the red-head every so often. Ron didn't even notice.

They had only just escaped the crowded hall when Harry bumped into Hermione who was seemingly on another planet. Looking up, Harry could only stare through the entranceway down at the Whomping Willow in shock. A tremble shook the ground as one of the branches slammed onto the ground. A first year was trying to get as close to the tree as possible. He was playing chicken with the Whomping Willow! Harry remembered the damage done to a certain, charmed car and raced towards him.

**888**

Draco Malfoy was having a bad morning. No, scratch that. Draco Malfoy was having a terrible morning.

_Of all the rotten, bloody, who does he think he is! _Draco silently ranted.

He had been handed back to his father late the previous night with absolutely no useful information. He then had been taken back to Malfoy Manor where Lucius spent an hour making him presentable to go back to Hogwarts. Draco had only gotten a few hours sleep before it was time for him to be flooed back to school. And to top it all off, Draco then had to endure another interrogation from Dumbledore.

For that was what it was. For no matter how subtle his light -chats- were, Dumbledore was still prying, still trying to discover what was going on.

"If he ever found out." Draco mumbled to himself distractedly, "If anyone ever found out, I think I'd kill myself."

The Slytherin skipped breakfast, choosing instead to spend the morning out in the open, away from the crowds so that he could get his thoughts in order. However the teen had misjudged the time and was now running late. He briskly stormed passed the lake and the Quidditch Pitch and was just heading up to the main entrance when something caught his eye. Whipping his head to the right, his eyes practically popped out of his head.

A child. A stupid, first-year Gryffindor no less, was actually playing chicken with the Whomping Willow!

Draco ran towards the boy. The ground trembled beneath his feet as the Whomping Willow slammed a branch down. The boy froze for a second before re-gaining whatever stupidity led him into such a bizzare situation in the first place, and carried on.

"OI!" Draco yelled, "WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!"

He was almost there, about ten feet or so away. The boy stopped at the sound of his voice, turning around shakily like a deer caught in the headlights. The Whomping Willow, which was thrashing wildly about, swung a huge branch around. It was aimed right at the rigid Gryffindor.

Driven by instinct, Draco cried out in alarm, flinging himself bodily at the youth who crumpled under the bigger build. They slammed into the ground, the Whomping Willow whizzing so close to them that it tousled Draco's hair. But the tree was quick to round on them again, another branch swinging down at full speed.

_STOP! _Draco's mind cried out.

He never expected such a desperate cry to work, but funnily enough; it did. The Whomping Willow seemed to tame immediately. The offending branch suddenly mellowed and instead of crushing the two students, it gently wrapped around the Slytherins waist, pulling Draco to his feet. Another branch almost seemed to caress his fine, platinum tresses, and Draco stood frozen in shock, unsure of what to do.

_...I'm sorry... _It was a whisper, so quiet that Draco wasn't sure if he had heard it or not.

_W-What? _Draco asked in his mind, thinking that he was crazy.

But he never got an answer. The Whomping Willow suddenly withdrew and as soon as Draco realized why, he wished he could aswell.

"What is going on here?" That annoying, know-it-all demanded, "Dominic Anderson, get over here now and explain yourself."

Dominic snapped out of his trance, scrambled up from the ground and ran over to the bushy brunette. Hermione glared down at the Gryffindor, but something behind the Golden Trio abruptly caught Draco's eye. Two Slytherin first years, who were trying to sneek away. One of them glanced back at Draco, a sly smirk crossing the youths face. And then Draco knew what had happened. Draco absently noted how Hermione was admonishing the Gryffindor and stepped in.

"Oh knock it off Granger." He drawled, "Even Wonder-Boy here's had a confrontation with the Willow. If I recall correctly, he and Weasel drove a flying car right into it."

Draco found himself smirking outright as the Golden Trio, the young Gryffindor and even the two young Slytherins stared at him incredulously.

"Anyway, you Granger, should not stick your nose into other people's business. I was handling the situation quite well, thankyou." Draco glanced down at the young Gryffindor, "You will serve detention with me tonight. One hour."

"AND YOU TWO!" He suddenly yelled, causing the two Slytherin's to pale quite drastically, "Will serve detention with me tomorrow night. But do not think I will go so lightly on you next time. Daring a student to meddle with the Whomping Willow is a serious offence. Usually ending in expulsion."

The Golden Trio stared at Draco as if they had just seen a ghost, the two Slytherins scowled but begrudgingly left the grounds without making a fuss while the young Gryffindor gazed at Draco as though he couldn't believe that he figured out what had happened.

Draco glared haughtily at the dumbstruck Gryffindors, before striding passed them towards the castle, never looking back.

**888 End Chapter three. **


	4. Unlikely Friends

Okay, this chapter is longer than the last, and quite a filler. So, if you don't get any of it, say so in your review and I'll write back and answer your question.

Now, before I let you read on, first I've got to answer your reviews…

Responses.

Demonchildssister: Thanks for the show of appreciation. Here's the next chapter so I hope you enjoy.

Rubymoon17: More on the way, now just scroll down a little, and you should find the next chapter. Hehe.

Cat: I updated now, and I hope you like it as much as the last cause this took me forever.

Leana: You're loving it, were you eating McDonalds when you wrote that? Hm…nevermind, read on…find out what happens next.

Lady Cyllan: Hopefully, Draco should be sending some info in the next chapter or so – depending on how the plot line weaves itself.

Jenn: Thankyou, and I'm sorry for the wait on this next chapter, but I hope you'll read on anyway.

RaineArilan: I try to get into their heads, because it makes the plot so much more believable and you really get a sense of emotion aswell. Well, that's what I think anyway. And I think you've shown me that picture before. If it is the same one then it was great. I really loved it.

Kanui d'Astor: Interesting pen-name, where did it come from? Oh, well, maybe you can tell me after you've read the next chapter hm?

Kitsune Kida: Next chapter's here, finally. Even though I know it's taken forever for me to update, I hoe you'll continue to read and review this fic.

Natana; OMG, I went over your deadline which makes me so ashamed! (Blazin Shadow hides in shame), though maybe updating this chapter makes up for it…? (Blazin Shadow's eyes peeps out from where she's hiding.) ….?

In general I would just like to say that it's really cool you guys have stuck with me on this one. I am so ashamed that it's taken me this long. I could run a load of excuses but that'd just delay you reading the next chapter, which will further anger you… I don't really wanna do that so I'll say bye for now…

**888**More Than One Spy**888**

Chapter Four: Unlikely Friends

That Monday had been disastrous to say the least, after the incident with the Whomping Willow, Draco had gone down to potions with the hope that a bubbling concoction would put his stressful mind in a calm trance. Unfortunately for him, Professor Snape decided that he would taunt a few specific Gryffindors before they began. First Potter, the usual tasteless jibe which included his parents, then he turned onto Longbottom.

Professor Snape had stood Longbottom up at the front of the class, asking the class if anyone would want to partner with such a clumsy boy. Granger was the first to put her hand up, but Professor Snape said that he was asking the Slytherins, knowing full well that no mercy would be given. And he was right.

Taunts began, sniggering, pointing and leering. Longbottom shifted from one foot to the other in embarrassment, shamefacedly staring at his shoelaces while fiddling with the hems of his robes. Tears began to form, Draco could plainly see the humiliation as the seconds ticked by, and suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. Before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet…_ "I'll be his partner"…_

Professor Snape had not been expecting to hear that, infact, no one was expecting that response. All heads swiveled around to face him, mixtures of shock and mild disgust on the Slytherins part – to suspicion on the Gryffindors. The accusing stares were awkward to say the least, so he tore the attention away from himself, stating to Longbottom that he should hurry up. After the spectacle, Professor Snape went on and picked out partners for everyone else, saying that they were wasting valuable time. Names rolled off the tip of his tongue, but it was mostly unnoticed by Draco who could only watch as Longbottom brought his things over to his desk, a shy and grateful smile etched across his face.

And did Draco regret that decision, funnily enough; no, he did not. Longbottom was surprisingly skillful at potions, Draco could definitely see the potential and by the end of the class, their potion was the best. Draco realized it was the intimidation by Professor Snape that stunted his practical skills. Longbottom lacked in self-confidence and so when taunted, became jittery and painfully clumsy. This is why everything went wrong for the boy.

And now, hours later, Draco was sitting in an abandoned classroom with his charge for one hour. Dominic Anderson, lined with the traditional Gryffindor bravery or in Draco' opinion, stupidity, sat in the seat opposite him, staring.

"So," Draco said to the boy, "What happened today?"

"Nothing." The boy answered.

"Oh really." Draco replied casually, "So, you're just suicidal, then?"

"What!" The boy snapped, then, "I'm not suicidal!"

"Of course not," Draco mused aloud, a smirk sliding into place, "You just thought you'd show the world how brave you are, prove to the world that all Gryffindor bravery is, is stupidity!"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" The boy rushed to his feet, the chair crashing to the floor behind him as his hands simultaneously slammed against the table.

"Yet you play chicken with the Whomping Willow." Came Draco' smooth reply.

Dominic went bright red in the face, "YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" he screamed.

"Then explain it to me." Draco answered coolly.

Dominic huffed silently for a few seconds, before turning abruptly on his heels. Draco only watched in quiet contemplation, as Dominic predictably headed straight for the door. The magic was immediate, a stinging sensation lancing through his arm at lightning speed.

"OW!" Dominic cried, stumbling back in shock and pain.

The hand that reached out to grab the handle was cradled protectively in the other. The boy turned wild eyes on Draco, flamboyantly gesturing to the door.

"What did you do?" He questioned accusingly, "Let me out!"

"Your hour is not yet complete." Draco replied, "Now sit down. Talk."

"You can't make me!" The boy spat childishly.

Draco raised a thin brow challengingly, "Can't I?"

With a flick of his wand, a chair to Dominic' right swerved behind him, colliding into the backs of his legs and forcing the boy into the seat. Dominic gasped in shock, then glared resentfully at the Slytherin who returned the look with no more then the raising of his other brow.

"I hate you!" Dominic hissed sullenly, "You're no better than those other bullies!"

"You mean Malus Kane and Timothy Thirsk." Draco stated.

"He doesn't like his name." The boy whispered, "Everyone knows him as Tiger."

"Cute." Draco drawled sarcastically, "So, this Timothy and Malus dare you to play chicken with the Whomping Willow, but I don't get why you did it."

Dominic snorted at that, "I thought you were supposed to be clever."

"Well I'm not that _clever_." Draco dragged out the word purposefully, inwardly pleased when a look of puzzlement flickered across the youths face, "So why don't you enlighten me."

"They said they'd burn my hair and lock me away where no one could find me if I didn't." Dominic said after a moment of silence.

"And you can't fight back?" Draco queried, leaning forward with genuine interest, "What about Gryffindor bravery? Use your magic."

Dominic glared icily at that, his voice deadpan, "You flatter me _sir_, by assuming that I am of magical heritage."

Draco sat there utterly gobsmacked, and a Malfoy is never caught off guard. It was law.

"What?" The boy snarled at the silence that greeted him, rising to his feet, "Do I disgust you, now you know that you are in the presence of a muggle-born. What do you purebloods call us? Oh yes, _Mudbloods!" _–A table began to wobble, the chair beneath him groaning under the strain. Draco could actually _feel_ the rising intensity of magic emanating from the boy—"This is my first week here, and already I am outcast and picked on! At least back at the orphanage I could defend myself, now I don't know what to do!"

_SMASH!_

The ink pot before Draco shattered into a million shards, splatters of blackened fluid staining everything it touched. Though through all of this, Draco barely batted an eyelid.  
"Control yourself." Draco commanded quietly, "Take deep breaths, and then sit down."  
Dominic clenched his fists and ground his teeth as if to protest, but nevertheless sucked deep ragged breaths. The seething tension slowly drained out of the boy, and Dominic suddenly slumped to his chair, practically oozing anguish. 

"You have power in you." Draco murmured into the suffocating silence, "That's why you were brought here in the first place. Only the gifted are accepted here at Hogwarts. The trick is to know how to channel that power."

Dominic glanced up at the words, blue eyes shining miserably, "And they, growing up with magical parents, have the advantage over me."

"Maybe." Draco conceded, "But then again…"

Suddenly Draco' wand was in his hand, being twirled by his slender fingers. Then just as quickly, he pointed it directly at Dominic.

"…I can teach you a few things."

But instead of looking pleased, Dominic was portraying a look of suspicion and doubt combined.

"Why would you help me?" He asked slowly, cautiously, "I'm a Gryffindor…"  
"Apart from the fact that lately I've been uncharacteristically helping out those in need?"—Draco shrugged nonchalantly— "I don't like people who gang up on their enemies when they know they have an unfair advantage. Unless of course, it's me." Draco saw the look of horror on the boys face and rose his hands in a gesture of goodwill, "Only kidding!"  
"…I have nothing of value…" The boy trailed off, uncertain.  
"Are you sure you're not meant to be in Slytherin?" Draco asked rhetorically, "You have the suspicious mind of one." 

"Well that's what happens when you're always looking over your shoulder!" Dominic blurted out in anger; then he flushed, gasped and lowered his eyes in shame.

"You want to talk about it?" Draco asked.

"What's the point?" Dominic sounded hopeless, "You couldn't possibly understand."

Draco couldn't help but think of Voldemort in that moment. The rough hands gliding over heated flesh, chapped lips suckling, marking and tainting every place they touched. Sharp nails biting into him, a heavy weight keeping him prisoner. _Pain…_

Draco shuddered involuntary, and viscously clamped down on those memories. All they ever brought was despair and an undeniable urge to bathe until he was raw red.

"It's always nice to have someone listen." Draco mused, "Even if you don't think they'll understand. It's just nice to know that someone cares enough to listen."

"…I suppose…"

Draco noticed how desolate he sounded, how vulnerable, and so said, "The only thing I want from you is your full attention and a vouch of silence." – Draco chuckled and waved his arm casually, – "I can't have everyone knowing that I'm helping out a Gryffindor in training. I've got a reputation to keep, y'know."

Dominic smiled enthusiastically, brightening immediately. "Can we start now?" 

"Oh I think I've got time…" So saying Draco pointed his wand at the fireplace. With a smirk and a wink, Draco said firmly, "Incendio."

**888**

Reminiscing on that Monday, Draco didn't regret it much at all. Nowadays it was pretty much the only thing Draco looked forward to. The lessons with Dominic, and the lessons with Neville, as strange as that may sound. Neville' skills were blossoming rapidly, his theoretical skills were at their peak and his practical wasn't far behind. Draco could discuss his theories on the potions they were working on, which Neville would contribute on. Together they could have a decent conversation that the blond would actually have to pay attention to, to keep up. But it was not only Draco, which was contributing to their truce. Not long after Draco had discovered Neville' repressed skills in potions, did Neville surprisingly find Draco's suppressed skills in herbology. Only recently, Draco was ashamed to admit, had he noticed that potions and herbology came hand-in-hand.

And the lessons with Dominic were exciting to say the least. Dominic had the thirst that Draco had also had as a young boy. Every Tuesday and Thursday after dinner they would find new and old spells to practice with, building up their magical strength and even heightening the senses with magical boosts. Indeed it was tiring, but more than worth it. Now no one picked a fight with the boy who set fire to Timothy Thirsk' clothes at breakfast (the day after he was dared to play chicken with the Whomping Willow).

Today was just over four weeks after that memorable Monday. Friday the 2nd of October to be precise, a little after dusk. A nice cool breeze played with the hems of his robes and tousled his hair as he stood out on the steps of Hogwarts, just mere feet away from his other mystery.

The Whomping Willow.

And back to that memorable Monday. The voice on the air…

…_I'm sorry…_

Even now it haunted him, a curiosity that had yet to be satisfied. Dragging on and on…

Draco remembered knocking Dominic to the ground as the Whomping Willow made to attack. The branch swinging back to strike again. He couldn't remember much of his thoughts at that time, he was so distressed. And then suddenly it stopped. Those two words were spoken, a whisper. Draco had already ruled out Dominic, as his voice didn't match, and no one else present was close enough to whisper to him.

There was one thought that bubbled in the back of his mind though, but it was absurd, and so he had shoved it away, preferring to keep his sanity. But yet…the branch had wrapped around his waist, pulling him to his feet, and he could've sworn that another branch petted his hair.

During the days after that memorable Monday, the Whomping Willow had been attacking students left, right and centre. By night, the tree seemed to huddle in on itself, and tonight was no different. It was almost as if the tree was frozen in place. As if its branches were protecting the trunk from the cold.

It looked, almost pitiful.

As if to re-enforce his thoughts, a great gust of wind shot passed, and the Whomping Willow seemed to _shudder_! Draco rubbed his eyes; obviously, he was tired and stressed about meeting with Voldemort tomorrow, that would explain what he was seeing. Yes, that had to be it. There was no way that the branches of the Whomping Willow were rubbing its trunk as if to warm itself up.

Draco stepped closer to the Whomping Willow, ignoring his instincts to walk away.

"I-I um…Look, right, this is just plain weird to me, so if you did speak to me, I'd like to know now!" The dead of the night was all that greet in response, and Draco shifted nervously on the spot.

_I'm going crazy…_Draco thought to himself, _It's because of him raping me again and again. That's why I'm talking to a tree. That has to be it! The lack of answers, the grief of shouldering my shame alone…I'm stressed, that's all. I just need a break!_

Draco shut his eyes against the tidal wave of anguish he knew was crashing down on him. The prickling sensation was however not to be denied; he trembled uncontrollably, trying to resist…

…_What is…Rape…?_

It was the voice, a mere whisper yet again; Draco could no longer deny it. Taking a peek, Draco gasped in wonder. The Whomping Willow had reached out to him, a branch stretching away from the others to circle him; but it was not touching him. It was in no way threatening, Draco noticed.

_You can read my thoughts? _Draco thought.

_I am a Whomping Willow, of course I can read thoughts, it's how nature communicates. But only a few Wizards and Witches can hear us. You are exceptional to be able to hear me. You're the second Wizard to have ever heard me. Ever._

There was a million and one questions zooming in his mind, yet one broke free of the chaos and surfaced.

_Who is the first Wizard to have heard you?_

_I can't answer that. _The Whomping Willow replied, _It is not my secret to tell._

…_Oh…_

The Whomping Willow gently pushed at Draco' back, urging the Slytherin to come closer. Draco obliged, though still wary of what was happening.

…_What is…Rape…? _The Whomping Willow queried again.

_It's…um…_Draco stumbled, unsure of how to answer_ …It's when someone…touches you…um…_

…_It causes you pain…? _The Whomping Willow gently pushed.

Draco glanced up at the massive tree with tears in his eyes, and it was almost as if the Whomping Willow could _feel_ his intense pain just as he himself was experiencing it over in his mind. All the emotions whirring within him had been let loose on another, someone else was sharing his agony. The Whomping Willow shook, wrapped his branch more securely around the blond, as if to comfort him.

Draco suddenly realized what was happening. With all his might, he tugged on his emotions, pulling them deep within himself. Burying them away from prying souls.

_I'm sorry! _Draco quivered, absentmindedly holding the branch that was wrapped around him, _You shouldn't have seen that._

_But I want to help…_

_It was a long time ago, _Draco lied smoothly. _It means nothing!_

The Whomping Willow shook visibly, as if to disagree, but it sensed that Draco did not want to delve deeper into this matter, and so said nothing.

After a minute, an idle thought popped into Draco' mind, _Why have you been attacking students?_

Just as the thought passed his mind, a shot of unbearable heat ran through him, shaking him to the core, followed swiftly by a horrific chill. In his desperation, Draco clung to the branch like a lifeline in a sea of unknown – to find it shaking. Then he realized; it wasn't his pain, but the Whomping Willows.

_What's going on? _Draco thought desperately.

…_I don't feel so well…I…Not again…!_

_No! Wait! Tell me what's wrong!_

The Whomping Willow began to thrash wildly, ignoring Draco's cry as a branch slammed into the ground. The ground beneath him began to shake, the world around him a distant thing. Through their connection, Draco could feel a thousand frozen blades stabbing into him repeatedly. The branch around him reacted to the mounting pain, crushing the blondes ribs. Draco clawed at it in an attempt to be freed, but he was no match to the might of the Whomping Willow.

_Oh Merlin…_Draco could hardly breathe, his eyes barely resisting the urge to roll into the back of his head…_STOP!_

And just like that, the excruciating pain subsided – the Whomping Willow wrapped up in the after shock. And it was in those few precious seconds when Draco took deep, heartfelt breaths – that he felt a dull irritation in his left shoulder.

Wincing as the aches kicked in, Draco held one hand softly around his abused ribs while the other rubbed at the insistent irritation. He examined the extent of damage in his mind; the sharp, constant aching and throbbing mid-section – compared with the irritation in his shoulder which was quite potent, though not as in focus as the pain in his ribs. Glancing up at his weird companion, he noticed that while most of its branches were wrapped around himself in a defensive position, one lone branch had drifted up to the joint between its trunk and the main, left branch and began to rub at it.

_Let me look at that. _Draco demanded, stepping closer to the Whomping Willow.

…_I didn't mean to hurt you… _Shame and hurt flooded Draco and the Slytherin almost gasped at the onslaught _…Don't leave…how can you want to be near me…? …I'm so sorry…I would never mean to – but the pain grows to the point where I can't bare it, and when I thrash about, it subsides – though steadily mounts again! I DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT THOSE CHILDREN!_

_It's okay… _Draco stepped closer, surprised to find he wasn't the least afraid, _Just let me see where it's irritating you. _

_..Why…? _The Whomping Willow asked, even as a wide branch lowered at Draco' feet the help the blond to the point of irritation.

Draco stepped onto the branch, which quickly hoisted the blond to the joint that held the branch to the trunk. _I think it's the cause of your agony. _Draco thought absently as he jumped from one branch to the other.

Baring down on the joint, Draco could see something glinting softly in the moonlight. Determination swept through him as he reached out to brush the item. It felt cold and smooth. Draco thought that quite odd, told the Whomping Willow to keep still and, after a few tries, managed to pull the item out.

The Whomping Willow instantly slumped in relief, the magical tension running out of him like blood from a wound. But it was far from Draco' mind, as he turned the harmless, though rather absurd, looking device in his hands.

_What in Merlin's name is this!_

**888 end chapter four**

Oh, well that was quite the shock! I mean a wizard communicating with a tree!

Maybe I'm losing the plot?

But anyway, that's it for today. Enjoy and don't forget to review okay, cause I will update.

In the end, even though Draco would never admit it out loud, those two Gryffindors were the closest he had ever had to actual friends. Just like he would never admit to actually helping out the Whomping Willow and hearing its pain.


	5. The Deal With Dumbledore

Hiya everyone, sorry I've been gone so long but personal reasons have kept me away. Thankyou to all that have reviewed me and gave continuing support. I hope these future chapters show you all my appreciation.

Chapter Five - The Deal With Dumbledore.

The next day it still puzzled him, the strange looking object that undoubtably caused the whomping willow great pain. But how did the device work? It seemed to be nothing more than a mirror of some sort. If Draco didn't know better he would've thought the object harmless.

Standing nervously outside Dumbledores office, Draco thought about how he had scribbled a hasty note on a piece of parchment, and sent it do Dumbledore under his alias name. True, it was of no help in the sense of bringing down Voldemort, but at least maybe Dumbledore would know why it hurt the whomping willow so much.

As if to answer he silent queries, the door to Dumbledores office swung open, revealing the wise wizard sitting behind his elegant desk. Striding into the room, Draco could not help but stare at his old, wrinkly hands, for there sitting just inches before them was the item of Draco's thoughts, almost taunting him in the flickering candlelight.

"How are you feeling, Draco?" Dumbledore said, snapping Draco out of his stupor.

"I'm fine." Came the smooth response, "I just want to get going."

Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye that had Draco on edge. They held his gaze for a long while, before shifting to the object sitting on the table.

"Interesting object, don't you think so?" Dumbledore said in a light tone of voice, "I received it this morning with a rather interesting note."

Draco glared at Dumbledore with curiosity, _what's the old coot up to...?_

"Do you know what this is, Draco?"

Draco stared at the object, his pride almost shouting from within his soul to answer with something witty, but he could not. Instead, he settled for shrugging his shoulders nonchalently. Dumbledore nodded softly.

"...It is a car side mirror, probably from Mr Weasleys car..."

"I don't see why you're telling me this." Draco snapped, irritated.

"It appears to have some magical residue inside that if I am not mistaken has been the reason for the whomping willows strange behaviour. Though why it has only begun affecting the tree just recently I have no idea."

Dumbledore paused only for a brief moment, emerged deep in thought.

"Its magical properties are slight, barely noticeable even to me as I hold it. I therefore wonder how someone else managed to find it high in the whomping willow..."

"I don't know." Draco responded, "Maybe someone has a thing for climbing trees?"

"A dangerous tree." Dumbledore nodded, "...Perhaps..."

The light that Dumbledores eyes were famous for shone brightly over moon rimmed glasses. All he did was stare, and after a moment of quiet contemplation, Draco suddenly realised why. In the midst of listening to what the headmaster was saying, it had only occured to him that in his note YSpy did not mention whereabouts he found the item.

"Perhaps they could get close to the whomping willow..." Dumbledores eyes twinkled, almost gloating as he shared his theories," Perhaps, somebody could feel the pain, and sympathised with the tree..."

"...Perhaps Draco..." The headmaster smiled with sympathy, "there is something, you wish to tell me?"

"No professor." the words were out of his mouth automatically, even as his heartbeat raced as the headmaster stumbled onto the truth.

Dumbledore sighed and gazed imploringly at the blond, then began to speak.

"Draco, I'm not going to beat about the bush, I know of your situation, and I can help you..." He stood up and gestured to the comfortable seat in from of his desk, "Please take a seat."

"No, I don't know what you're talking about." Draco spat defensively, "Just let me use the fireplace."

"We need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about!" Draco stared at the fireplace, then back at Dumbledore, judging his chances.

Dumbledore could see Draco's motions, and sighed deeply. He shook his head but did not lower his soul-searching gaze.

"I will not stop you." He stated, Draco, with that incentive, strode over to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder.

But is that what you truly want?" The question was so simple, so softly spoken, yet it tore deep at something within the blond that had him frozen to the spot. With his back to the headmaster, Draco shuddered and clenched his eyes as if to block out the pain. The floo powder in his hands trickling through his fist like ashes.

"I can have Snape see to your wounds with the strictest of confidence." Dumbledore continued.

Draco wanted to deny everything, to gain his confidence and carry on as he had intended, but he couldn't. It was too late now, somehow, another had discovered his humiliating secret. He faltered, hung his head in shame and was unable to find any strength at all.

"...How...?"

"Since the whomping willow had been attacking students, I had temporarily lost my connection with him. But you, gained yours."

Draco could only stare despondantly at the fireplace before him, an escape from the truth yet also a gateway to his doom. All he could do, was listen to what Dumbledore had to say.

"You see Draco, you might have only just discovered your new ability, but it has always been there, dormant within you. I can sense power in others like yourself, sometimes before they know it themselves. When the whomping willow stopped attacking students, I knew that something had changed and so went to investigate." Dumbledore smiled a soft, though bittersweet smile, "...I felt your pain and suffering through him..."

A warm and surprisingly comforting hand grabbed his shoulder, a kind gesture which Draco wanted to respond to so desperately but physically could not. His emotional state had him trapped in a whirlwind of pain that he thought he could block out permanently through sheer willpower. Fate however, would have his weaknesses shown for all the world to see. By trying to contain his fears, his body shuddered and could no longer take the emotional strain. With a silent cry, Draco could feel his body cave in, his legs became limp and crumbled beneath him like a rag doll. Hands caught him mid fall, but it was a distant thought as his brain shut down.

888

"...How is it possible...?" said a deep, oily voice.

A tingling sensation swept the blond, gently healing his wounded body.

"He has always had this ability, Severus, and though I knew of it, I doubted the boy would ever have discovered it. How wrong I was..."

Silence and darkness reigned all around Draco, and in someway he was grateful for the peace. However he knew it could not last and enjoyed the few precious moments even as his body regained its strength. Something felt wrong however, and Draco's peace rapidly morphed into horror as he realised that most of his body was exposed.

With a gut wrenching jolt of horror, Draco sprung upright and slid backwards until he hit the arm of the sofa. Looking down at his body, he noticed with great relief that he had boxers on, but that mild comfort did not stop his prudish self from finding his clothes which were folded neatly on a nearby chair. Severus, who was kneeling by the sofa, and Dumbledore who was watching from a slight distance, jumped in surprise at the quickness of the blonds movements.

"Draco, I haven't finished healing you, now put your clothes down and get back on this sofa!" Snape commanded.

"I've think you've already seen way too much, Deatheather!" Draco spat.

Snape gave a wicked smirk.

"You're a fine one to talk." Snape retorted with slimy arrogance.

Draco flushed furiously, but it was Dumbledore who cut in, reprimanding them both.

"You have both been protrayed to the world as evil, which neither of you are." Dumbledore said knowingly, "However I have a way in which to end everything, but I need time, and your co-operation."

There was a tense moment of silence, before it was broken by Draco.

"Fine, but what about Voldemort? How are you going to explain what happened to me?"

"We don't need to." Dumbledore held a cunning smile that Draco had never seen on the old wizards face before.

"I don't understand."

"We've sent you on your way already." Dumbledore answered with a bright cheery smile."I mean not _you. _But a copy of you, created by Snape so that Voldemort does not catch on. You don't need to be subject to him or become a spy for me."

Draco stared from one to the other with suspicion. It had always been known to never expect something for nothing. Dumbledore could see Draco thinking and decided to continue before any more questions were asked.

"But I do ask one thing of you."

Draco's eyes became as cold as steel, he knew there was a catch somewhere.

"What do you want from me?" He asked coldly.

"Your honesty." Dumbledore smiled kindly, "And show the other Slytherins that there is another way forwards. If we cannot persuade them then many innocent children could die. I do not want any pupils at Hogwarts to suffer because of Voldemort."

Draco nodded in agreement, but still clung to his clothing like a lifeline. Snape hissed in disgust and snapped.

"Now put your bloody clothes down and let me finish healing your body!"

888End Chapter Five.888

Well, there you go, Blazin Shadows back for business. I hope that''s good enough for now. I should update within the next few weeks. But for now let me know what you think.


	6. The Hideout Of Redemption

Warning - Rated R for ... um ... Rape, on later chapters. Nothing offensive in this chapter. Well, not directly. I might drop it down to pg 13 if people would prefer me to not write disturbing scenes like that. I don't know, never have done before, only mild stuff. You'll have to tell me.

Anyway. Hope you like.

More Than One Spy

Chapter Six - The Hideout Of Redemption

The longest day Draco ever remembered living through was finally drawing to a close. After Snape had finished healing his wounds to the best of his ability, Dumbledore led the exhausted youth to his new rooms, which as the headmaster had explained, Draco would occupy them during the weekends while his magical copy was away with Voldemort.

At that thought the blond inwardly shuddered and a frozen lump suddenly burned his insides. In response his eyes snapped open and he pulled himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs off the side of the bed he was currently on. With clammy hands grasping the sheets, Draco willed his body to calm down as his stormy eyes reminded him of where he was by roaming the splendid room. From the bottle green painted walls to the fantastic victorian fireplace that crackled with life and warmed the room, the furnishings were enough to ease the Slytherins fear. Dumbledore was gracious in his weekend home, it held every luxury that Draco could think of and more, including an on suite.

_...I just need to get clean..._

With that thought in mind, the Slytherin retrieved a towel and headed for the on suite.

888

In the Gryfindor dorms only one boy was still awake, wondering if he could possibly go another weekend without sleep. It was his dreams that plagued his very thoughts, even as he sat on his bed with the curtains drawn; wand in hand with the marauders map spread across his crossed legs.

However much the idea mortified him, once in his dreams Harry Potter could feel through the senses of his greatest enemy, loosing control completely. His head would barely touch the pillow when images would flash before his closed eyes while lust and guilt would overthrow his senses. It was becoming a horrific weekend ritual, but nonetheless each time it happened it would invoke the same reactions, making the boy-who-lived question his morals.

This Saturday night was no exception, and looking up from the map Harry faced his latest fear with trepidation. The tidy bed looked innocent enough, but the brunette knew better, and had yet to lie down. He knew that if he did his exhaustion and the comfortable mattress would lull him into a false sense of security before trapping him in a insane mind that he could not escape from.

While barely containing a chilling shudder, Harry turned back to the map, exhaustion clear as he nudged his glasses to rub his eyes. It was bitter determination that kept the boy awake, that he knew without a doubt. Even as he stared at the blurring images on the map traitorous thoughts of sinking into the mattress beneath him crept in. ..._Just lie down...Just close your eyes...sleep..._

His chin colliding with his chest stopped the brunette from nodding off, making Harry jerk, his eyes snapping wide open only for them to then slide shut despite his best efforts.

"...Stupid bed...stupid sleep..." Harry mumbled to himself, rubbing his sore eyes yet again and blinking several times to keep them open.

It was sheer will power that made Harry open his curtain and pull himself to his feet, but there was nothing else for it. Harry knew that if he stayed in the bed a moment longer he would surely cave in to his body's desire and drift off to a place where he had no control. With the wand light as his only guide, and the marauders map clenched in his other hand, the boy-who-lived made his way down to the common room. He stumbled sluggishly down the steps one at a time, thoughts as to what to do to occupy his time swirling round his tired brain. Determination kept him from falling down the stairs, and as Harry made it to the common room he practically collapsed in one of the comfortable chairs provided.

"Incendio." It was a mere whisper, yet with that spell the fireplace roared to life, crackling merrily and lighting up the common room sufficiently.

Smiling with satisfaction the brunette nestled on the armchair, looking down at the marauders map with the intention to cancel the magic for now, when something snagged his attention. At first Harry thought that it was his tired mind playing tricks on him, but as the dot refused to fade away Harry's brows rose up with mild surprise. For what his knowledge on this subject said and what his eyes were telling him were two different stories and clashed, sparking Harry's immediate interest. Rising from his chair with the intent of breaking the rules Harry dashed to retrieve his invisibility cloak, for it was only logical to go and discover the truth. Once he had his three most prized possessions to hand; his wand, map and invisibility cloak, Harry marched out of Gryfindor territory, heading into the depths of the castle to a room that he had never seen on the map before, and the person who occupied it.

_...It should be right around here..._

With each moment that slipped passed Harry's anticipation rose, one hand gliding over the stone wall as the other held the map for continuous reference. There was no portrait or statue, which surprised the Gryfindor; for he couldn't remember ever coming across a room without a portrait or statue guarding it before. It didn't bother the teen though, what mattered the most was finding the entrance and confronting the person behind it.

"Aha!" Harry whispered with glee as suddenly, a small word popped up on the map before his dot. However his eyes took in the word and it's meaning, before asking himself. "_Redemption?_"

_Interesting password._

However, the thought was blown away with the sudden draft of air that slammed into him as the wall split and slid open, revealing the mysterious room. With his curiosity peaking to an even higher level, Harry strode into the room, and was shocked by what he saw.

888

The shower was thoroughly enjoyed by the Slytherin, as he stepped out of the steaming cubicle. Wrapping a towel round his midsection he reminisced on the perfumed shower gel and heat that when combined cleansed himself of any remains of Voldemort's touch. Rubbing another towel against his platinum locks, Draco strode to his bedroom to get himself dressed. However upon entering his room another voice made him stop mid-stride, the towel that was drying his hair slipped through his fingers to pool around his feet.

"Cosy little hidey hole you have here." The voice came from the shadowy corner of the room, "But it's still a hidey hole. Suitable for a snake like you."

The lump that had temporarily lodged itself in his throat from fear was soon swept away as Draco immediately recognised the voice. Spitting the name of his school rival out with venom, Draco glared at the corner where the voice was coming from. Draco could make out the silhouette of the only armchair in the room, and a figure lounging on it casually.

"So what are you hiding from, Malfoy?" The voice floated from the shadowed corner, ignoring the Slytherins outburst.

"Who says you get to ask me anything Potter?!" Draco snarled defensively.

"Well, for one thing..." Potter chuckled and suddenly a small light emanating from his wand illuminated his smug face, "I'm armed, and you're not."

His school rival was blatantly looking him up and down, and as Draco glanced down at his towel-clad form, he hissed with fury as a dark blush stained his pale cheeks. Another chuckle from his school rival had Draco snap his head up and regain his composure. Draco vaguely heard Potter say something else, as stormy eyes glazed over the room in the search for his own wand. There it was, on the night stand, exactly where Draco remembered leaving it, but with the knowledge of its whereabouts he inwardly cursed. It was at least three paces from where he stood. Glancing back at Potter, he judged his chances...

"Don't even think about it." Potter uncharacteristically drawled, "Now answer my question."

Sighing irritably, Draco relented, "Dumbledore set this up for me."

Potter's expression to his words portrayed his surprise and he quickly to ask why Dumbledore would do such a thing. The Slytherin barely kept control of his anger as his hands balled into trembling fists at his sides.

"That's none of your business!" Draco gritted through clenched teeth, "Now leave!"

"Ok then," Potter replied a little too casually for Draco's liking.

Rising to his feet, Potter mumbled something about going into Slytherin Territory to find some answers as he headed for the door. Draco gulped audibly at the words. The Slytherin knew that Potter would go blindly into Slytherin territory in his quest for finding answers and in doing so open up a can of worms that would in turn have disastrous consequences. In that moment he had two choices; let Potter go and deal with the consequences later, or swallow his Malfoy pride now and bargain with his school rival.

"Wait!" The word was softly spoken, but the urgency behind it made Potter turn round with curiosity flittering across his features.

The next words that spilled from Draco's lips invoked a leap of faith in Potter of all people, "Slytherin can't find out I'm here. Dumbledore created this, to hide me at weekends, to keep my alibi protected."

He could feel bitter resentment bubbling in his throat, almost choking on it as he faced Potter who stared at him with a million questions churning behind those emerald eyes. However Potter didn't ask any more questions, merely stared at him. A fine tremor wracked the Slytherin's body from that gaze. It was almost as if the boy-who-lived was reading him at leisure like an open book, it was as if all his secrets were on display...

That, more than anything, scared Draco.

"That's all you're getting from me, _Potter_!" Draco spat as he pulled out of the trance-like state, his inner walls slamming up automatically.

The sheer magnitude of that one sentence pulled the brunette out of his own trance. Potter blinked a couple of times, before nodding in his direction.

"I won't tell anyone you're here." Potter spoke with sudden sincerity that the Slytherin's jaw almost slacked in response, "Not even Ron and Hermione."

Potter made to leave the room, and Draco could only stare mutely at his rivals back as the door slammed shut behind him. Draco stared at the door for a long couple of minutes after Potter had left, vaguely wondering if the confrontation had happened at all or if it was merely a figment of his imagination. A shudder however pulled Draco out of his musings as it suddenly dawned on him that Potter had just seen him nearly naked.

The realization horrified him.

Letting his prudish instincts take over, Draco picked up his pajamas and rushed back to the on suite to change. As he strode into the on suite, a glimmer of light made him halt and gaze to the left. A full length mirror was obviously what caused the sudden glimmer of light, probably bouncing off of its shiny surface to reflect in the Slytherins eye as he passed by, but that was not what suddenly preoccupied Draco's thoughts. Mortified, Draco glared at his reflected image with disgust, for adorning the pale skin were the remains of Voldemorts lust. Snape had done his best, but even the Potion's Master couldn't fully erase those marks. True they were only small white lines, but they were on display and Potter had stared at him so intently...

_Oh Merlin, _The pleading thought came unbidden, _Please don't let Potter have seen them._

888End Chapter Six888


	7. Porthelius Litranse

I hope I didn't take too long in writing this, if I did then let me apologize. Now things have settled I should be able to sort out future chapters on a regular basis as I used to before this mess started. Lol. Anyway sorry I haven't replied to messages individually like I normally would – there's limited time here on the library computer and I need to post two other chapters. Anyway I hope you like this chapter. BS

********More Than One Spy********

Chapter Seven: The Porthelius Litranse.

On the following Monday morning it still haunted him, the confrontation between himself and Malfoy that Saturday night. The way he had complete control over the situation and how Malfoy had given in so easily. It only confirmed one thing; the reason behind Malfoy hiding out was important, and no one, not even his friends, were aware of it. _Maybe his friends believed that he was still going home on the weekends? If so then what was the point? Why would Malfoy, and Dumbledore for that matter, go to so much trouble to keep that lie alive? Why not just tell them the truth? _

Rubbing his temples against a sudden oncoming headache, Harry refused to stare endlessly at his plate of food and closed his eyes in frustration. There were so many questions left unanswered, yet Harry had quelled them that night and had left quickly at the sight of the blond looking resentful and embarrassed. That was something else that puzzled the boy-who-lived, Malfoy acted like a stereotypical spoilt rich kid, yet the faint scars on his torso stated otherwise. _Maybe his father was strict? _It was a logical presumption, Harry knew first hand Senior Malfoy's temper and their whole attitude to life could rival that of ancient times. However something in that explanation just didn't cut it for Harry, almost as if there was a piece of the puzzle missing and was lurking in the shadows beyond his reach. Taunting him.

_Almost like Malfoy himself. _

_...The pale body that was simultaneously toned and lithe, with small white scars scattered across his midsection. Angular features twisted with bitter resentment; a red flush adorning his cheeks while stormy eyes were alight with humiliation, both partially veiled by dripping wet platinum hair..._

__I did not just think that!_ _Harry thought venomously, however as if to contradict his thoughts a sudden pang erupted from within him and unwanted excitement began fluttering in the pit of his stomach.

He covered his face with his hands in desperation_...Just because I have a little trouble finding girlfriends does not mean I am lusting after _DRACO BLOODY MALFOY_!_

_...You keep telling yourself that... _A knowing voice whispered gleefully in the depths of his subconscious, making Harry groan with frustration.

"Harry, are you alright?" A female voice spoke with concern lacing her words, "You're all flushed!"

"Yeah mate, you don't look so good."

Immediately Harry recognized the two voices as that of his friends Ron and Hermione and lowered his hands to find the pair gazing at him with obvious concern.

"Is there something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, "You haven't touched your breakfast."

"No 'Mione." He mumbled back, "Just a headache."

Forcing himself to take a mouthful of breakfast, it was not long before his eyes betrayed him, straying across the hall to the Slytherin table. Ironically enough, from just looking, Harry would've never had guessed that anything strange had happened between them. Malfoy was just like his normal self, haughtily sitting at the table with his goons flanking him from every side. Malfoy was idly paying attention to what Parkinson was prattling on about, nodding occasionally but in general paying more attention to what he was eating.

Then he looked up.

Startled by the sudden movement, Harry felt his body freeze to the core, his eyes caught up in those of his so called enemy. Those greyish irises were not glaring as they normally did, but held a strange light, staring endlessly...

"Harry, did you hear what I just said?"

Harry shook his head vigorously, snapping violently out of that unexpected confrontation to find Hermione and Ron looking down at him.

"We've got to go Harry." Hermione huffed exasperatedly, "Double Potions, remember?"

_How could I forget...? _

Pulling himself to his feet, Harry followed Ron and Hermione to Double Potions. It didn't take too long, exiting the main hall and then trudging down the stony flight of stairs into the dungeons. They approached the potions classroom only to find the Slytherins already there, waiting outside the locked door muttering amongst themselves. They were quick to look up, but Harry was far from interested. In short, his eyes flicked from one sour face to the other and was quite surprised to find Malfoy detached from the sneering crowd, casually leaning against the wall in a world of his own.

"Don't look now, it's Scarface and his Weasel and Mudblood!" Parkinson hissed, practically rubbing her hands in glee as her statement attracted the Slytherins to their arrival.

Ron snapped and immediately opened his mouth to spout the first retort that came to mind. Harry just brushed away the nasty comments with a casual shrug of his shoulders but at a side glance at his bushy haired friend Harry knew that she would find it more difficult to do so. Hermione's eyes watered slightly at the foul term and Harry was not the only one to notice.

"Aww the nasty little Mudblood's about to cry!" Zabini crowed, jeering his peers to laugh with him.

"I wouldn't cry at anything you'd have to say, Zabini!" Hermione brushed back her bushy hair to look him squarely in the eyes, "We all know you're just jealous of my superior intellect."

The crowd turned from laughter to rage in a split second, Zabini's face contorting into a disgusted snarl at her defying words.

"I think I need to teach this little Mudblood a lesson..."

Zabini withdrew his wand, making Ron, Hermione and Harry tense at the immediate threat. Harry's hand instinctively sought his wand in defense. However, before he could retaliate, a hand landed squarely on Zabini's shoulders bringing forth an unexpected voice.

"Enough." Draco's voice was soft, but held strength and a commanding tone to it.

Somehow in the thirty seconds or so it took for this confrontation to boil, Malfoy plowed through the Slytherin crowd to intervene. Zabini turned to his peer in surprise.

"Malfoy?" Zabini questioned, showing plainly his astonishment.

"You heard me, Zabini." It wasn't just the words, but his eyes and demeanor captivated Harry, "Don't let this, this bitter school grudge dictate your life. Trust me, the consequences are dire."

The anger wasn't directed at him, Harry knew that, but the sheer force radiating from the blond sent shudders down his spine. In the six years Harry had known him, through all the confrontations that sparked between them, he had never felt anything so fierce from Malfoy. Zabini was at a loss for words, and in all honesty; so was Harry.

"And what would you know?" Zabini finally spat, only to sneer in disgust as Malfoy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Well? What would you know about it, Malfoy!"

The smooth drawl and cocky features that Malfoy usually portrayed had been replaced with a deadly sincerity that spoke volumes beyond mere words, "More than I hope you will ever face."

"What's gotten into you?! You would've never hesitated before!" Zabini retorted, gesturing flamboyantly towards Harry and his friends, "They're the enemy!"

In response Malfoy just shook his head softly as if pitying Zabini.

_...What...? _Harry couldn't believe it, almost as if he had slipped into an alternate reality without realizing it. His friends Ron and Hermione were both stunned into silence aswell, which was hardly surprising considering the circumstances. The centre of attention had dramatically changed from them to Malfoy; a sudden and somewhat random Slytherin fight that they had become mere spectators of. Malfoy held his own before his horrified peers while Zabini was literally seething.

"What in Merlin's name has happened to you Malfoy? First voluntarily pairing yourself with Longbottom in class, I mean Longbottom, for Merlin's sake! Then spending an insane amount of time with the Whomping Willow and now this!" Zabini's voice dropped to a scathing whisper, "And I heard this morning that you've been training a first year Gryffindor!"

"Don't be silly, Draco would never do that!" Parkinson exclaimed, jumping between them.

"I'm not ashamed of my actions." Malfoy said honestly, overriding Parkinson altogether, "He's actually doing quite well, in case you were wondering."

Zabini's eyes widened like saucers, almost popping out of their sockets while Parkinson gasped outright. Behind them the Slytherins could barely contain their harsh hisses, the sound of robes shuffling an indication of the rising tension.

"...It's true...?" His whispered words lingered on the air, "...You've become a traitor..."

Zabini raised his wand, blind hatred guiding his actions.

"That's a bit extreme, don't you think?" Malfoy queried, raising a fair brow in view of the threat.

Zabini's hand slowly lowered, but the scathing expression plastered on his face only intensified. Shaking his head angrily, Zabini hissed in a spiteful whisper, though Harry couldn't make out what was being said. Harry could only see Malfoy's wooden response, before Zabini swiftly strode around Malfoy's body to join the rest of the Slytherins with Parkinson in tow. Malfoy stood frozen to the spot, eyes staring directly at them however held a glassy look, as if unseeing. It barely lasted a minute, before the potions door suddenly swung wide open, with Snape lingering in the doorway.

"Well get inside then!" Snape barked, making Harry jolt at the command despite himself.

**888**

_"We're no longer allies, Malfoy."_

The words echoed inside his head like a gong, even as he forced himself to sit at his desk. It shouldn't have hurt him, any logical mind would've predicted that from his so called friends. Yet for some reason, it did.

Mindlessly he pulled out the items he would need for the day, unaware of what was going on around him. He hardly noticed as students shuffled to their desks, or the scraping of wood against the stone floor as they pulled out their chairs. Malfoy hardly noticed anything except for his own whirling thoughts.

_...Allies ... not friends..._

"Hey Malfoy." Neville slammed him out of his reverie with his clumsy and somewhat noisy approach, "You alright?"

Malfoy nodded numbly, then turned to Neville while schooling his features to match his expected persona. _Now isn't the time to dwell on emotions._

Neville shrugged casually at the cold reply and carried on talking as if they had been friends for years. He was going on about something that he was doing in Herbology with Professor Sprout, but didn't manage to get far before Professor Snape began the lesson, daring anyone with his spiteful glare to interrupt him during his speech.

"I know that there are very few students in this class with the intelligence to complete this potion but at least _try _to follow my simple instructions, I do not wish for my potions lab to explode by distracted infidels." Snape drawled without preamble, "Today, we are going to make the potion needed to create a Portkey. Does anyone know the name of this potion? Anyone?"

Granger raised her hand instantly, as Draco assumed she would. He knew the answer, obviously, but he wasn't in the mood to indulge his teachers questions today. Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously at the brunette, then promptly ignored her waving hand as always to find his victim for the day. Draco could almost feel the scorching glare as it slid over his body to the students behind him.

"Mr. Finnigan!" Snape snapped.

Snape repeated his question to the Irish boy, only for him to stutter uselessly. Snape stared at the boy for a few seconds before his temper got the better of him and he slammed down his hands on the desk.

"Do you __ever__ study a thing, boy? This was in your homework assignment!" Spittle flew from Snapes mouth as he hissed at the boy.

Standing straight with a defeated sigh that showed he was on the edge of loosing it altogether, Snape ran a bony hand through his straggly strands as he spoke slowly, "Does anyone, other than miss. Granger," He added pointedly as her hand continued to wave, "know the answer to my question?"

Draco knew the answer, he probably should answer it, before Snape blew a gasket. _Then again_, a positively evil smirk escaped his monotonous facade to settle on his lips, _that would be an interesting sight..._

"...Porthelius litranse...?" Neville surprisingly said, drawing Snape's immediate attention.

Snape strode to their desk, and leaning forward in an intimidating way, Snape said, "And what are the ingredients needed?"

Neville, more confident than anyone ever remembered the boy to be, began to recite the ingredients, boldly staring back at Snape. Draco was vaguely listening to what they were saying, but wasn't really taking any of it in. He already knew anyway, so it wasn't like he needed to.

"Five points to Gryfindor, Mr. Longbottom." Snape snarled softly, but gave a curt nod in Neville's direction before snapping to his full height, "And ten points to Slytherin, for Mr. Malfoy teaching you how to not be a complete imbecile."

Without pause Snape hissed a few well choice words under his breath while pointing his wand to the door of his personal stock cupboard. As it swung open on rusty hinges Draco heard several voices echoing, hushed excited whispers followed swiftly by several potted plants hovering out, one plant landing squarely at each table.

..._Snape surely heard them gossiping even while casting spells..._Draco thought, but Snape seemed ignorant, which was strangely unlike him.

"And while we're on the subject, does anyone know the name of the plant we're about to use?" Snape snapped, "And why we have them still in their pots?"

Granger raised her hand yet again, and Snape rolled his eyes at the girl before giving a swift nod in her direction.

"The 'Porthelius Lite', or 'porte' for short, has to remain in its natural state until it is needed to create a potion for it to sustain its magical properties. This is why, Unlike most other plants, the Porte cannot be sliced and sold beforehand in Apothecary shops, but has to stay intact until it is required for the potion intended. It is said that with many years under the tender care of a professional herbologist, the Porthelius Lite has the potential to grow to its greatest form 'Forte Porthelius Lite' or as we know it; the Whomping Willow."

_...I do not like that name!.._ A little girls voice suddenly hissed with venom, ..._I prefer Sofia..._

Draco's head snapped up at the voice, darting his head round for any possible suspects.

"Did you say something?" He quickly shot at Neville.

Neville shook his head, confusion blatantly fixated on his chubby face as Draco furrowed his own brows and turned away.

_...Yes, I like Sofia very much..._

Draco stared at the plant as the words echoed in his head, followed by the insistent whispering and he inwardly groaned as he understood. _...I thought I could only hear the Whomping Willow talk..._

_...Huh?..._The little plant jerked, and Draco noticed it twist to face him, how could everyone else not._...Oooh you are cute...!_

_...What...?! _Draco thought, only just able to keep his face neutral as she squeeled in delight and giggled hysterically like a child.

_...But she couldn't be more then what, four, maybe five weeks old..._ Draco thought staring intently at the plant.

_...Five and a half, actually... _Sofia huffed stroppily, but then she seemed to perk up, _...this is our first time out of the home. we were all so excited, but I never thought I'd get to talk to one of you, even our nanny couldn't hear us..._

_...You mean Professor Sprout...? _

_...Yeah, and Neville... _Sofia shrilled, _...he spent the most time with us, but you're the first to have ever heard me-!_

Suddenly, the plant was dragged sharply to the right by Neville, and when Draco pierced him with his fiercest glare, Neville's eyes widened in fright.

"Didn't you hear Professor Snape?" Neville whispered urgently, "We have to start. I'll dice the Porte, and you mix the midnight dew drops in with the Coctenis." 

_...Dice the Porte...?_ It suddenly clicked in Draco's mind, and he had a hard time suppressing the sick feeling threatening to overwhelm him.

_...That sounds nice... _Sofia's voice whispered sweetly in his mind, she seemed to completely trust the boy that held her without a clue as to her fate.

The constant chattering of the other plants seemed to hold a death grip on his heart, they were just as unaware, and he just sat there, not knowing what he could do to prevent it. Neville seemed to not notice his distress, and held Sofia by the top so that the small knife could take a clean swipe at the base of the plant. The blade itself was gleaming in the dim light of the room, and Draco had a split second to make his choice.

Without thinking of the consequences, his arms shot forward to grab Sofia, and the small blade plunged into the soft skin of his hand.

In that second time seemed to stop. He could feel the sharp stinging sensation of the blade in his hand as blood trickled to splash on the work surface. He could vaguely hear Neville's hysterical apologies and the harsh whispers of his classmates even as he pulled Sofia towards him. Sofia, who was whimpering like that of a frightened child, was the only other voice now echoing inside his head. The constant chattering of the other small plants had become petrified screams before being brutally cut off, leaving behind a hollow deadly silence reverberating through his mind. His eyes were brimming with tears, unseeing and in that second all he could do was feel. Maybe he imagined it, but suddenly the room reeked of death, pummeling mercilessly into the depths of his soul.

"Draco. I'm so sorry!" It was Neville's voice, but Draco chose to ignore him.

_...W-What is this horrible place...! _Sofia's voice trembled, the fear forcing him to respond _...I want t-to l-leave...!_

_...It's ok, I got you..._ With that Draco pulled himself onto unsteady feet, unaware of the blade dislodging itself from his hand to clatter uselessly on the table.

The whole class had focused their attention on him, silently watching like vultures over a dead carcass. His palms were cold and sweaty, but he clung to Sofia with everything he had left. Forget his things, they could wait.

He swiftly rounded the table to leave the room with what dignity he could muster in those circumstances, only to come face to face with non other than Snape.

"Mr. Malfoy." Snape said, his dark irises sliding to the slice on his hand, "Return to your seat, I'll heal that."

Draco didn't know what exactly triggered it, the sudden panic that threaten to consume him. Maybe it was the other students, practically gawking at him, or maybe the plants that were silenced by their actions. Or maybe it was Sofia, her trembling voice humming in the depths of his mind. Whatever it was, it slammed into him with tremendous force. Draco suddenly felt trapped, like an animal in a cage; he felt like he had no control. He felt like he wasn't at Hogwarts, but somewhere far more sinister.

_...He couldn't see, only feel, and in that moment all he could feel was the freezing cold gust of wind brush against his skin as callous hands forced his shirt higher..._

"Mr. Longbottom you will serve a weeks detention with me. One hundred points from Gryfindor for attacking my student!"

_"...I could reprimand you for resisting, I could kill you...but I enjoy it far too much..." _The voice from his nightmares echoed visciously in his head.

"Mr. Malfoy did you hear me?"

_"...Your form writhing on my bed...eventually accepting my touches..."_

"Mr. Malfoy go back to your seat!"

_"...Watching you break...seeing your kiss-bruised lips move as they beg me for more..."_

"Mr. Malfoy!"

_"...So beautiful..."_

"Mr. Malfoy!"

"...No..." Draco whispered faintly.

Draco couldn't understand, every ounce of control slipped through his fingers as the haunting words suddenly slivered through his mind. He tried to suppress the oncoming tidal wave, but everything seemed to be against him. His vision seemed to not help him in the slightest either, the potions lab seeming to morph before his very eyes. Shadows suddenly lined every wall, with his tormentor standing where he vaguely remembered Snape to be; the only exit behind him. The only two things that registered as he thought they should in that moment, was Sofia who he held in one hand, and his wand which was where it always was; in the inner pocket of his school robes.

"Mr. Malfoy sit down now!" The silhouette barked.

Trembling, and only seeing the monster in front of him, Draco instinctively pulled out his wand. His arm was trembling, but the meaning was clear.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

_"...So beautiful..."_

"Move, or I swear I'll hex you."

The monster looked affronted, but put his hands up in a gesture of good will. He took a small step towards him.

"Put the wand down, Mr. Malfoy."

"_MOVE!_" He could feel something tear in his throat from the sheer force behind that one word, but at least it made his target stop.

"This class is dismissed!" Snape's voice suddenly bellowed from the silhouette of the monster.

In that second his command broke the tide, and everything reverted back to normal. The monster had returned to a raging Snape, while the shadows lining the walls became his classmates, who were quick to get out of the line of fire. Some were shooting confused side glances while others were sniggering as they tumbled out the exit.

Draco's eyes widened at the thought of the spectacle that he had just created, body involuntary trembling as his wand hand slumped to his side. Bile rose threateningly up to lodge in his throat, his legs caving beneath him to smash on the stone floor. He couldn't focus any thoughts at all. His mind couldn't comprehend what had happened. Kneeling on the floor as he was, all he could do was concentrate on his laboured breathing.

Then a familiar pair of black boots lined his vision, "What happened, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco only shook his head slightly in response, for fear of becoming violently sick. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, instead feeling his whole form shudder continuously in his efforts to regain control. Snape must of noticed, for instantly he was kneeling beside him and in a weird act of kindness one hand began rubbing soothing circles on his back, helping him to calm down.

"Draco?" Snape said in a much kinder tone of voice, "Tell me what happened."

Closing his eyes and concentrating on not throwing up, he slowly began to explain. Feeling the plants talking, to which he thought he heard Snape muttering self loathing curses under his breath. Then he explained Sofia's pain, how all he had intended to do, was leave quietly so that she could stay somewhere peaceful. He then could feel the bile rising back up to lodge in his throat, as he thought of the whirlwind of emotions that cascaded into him, tortuously binding and unbreakable.

"I've never lost control like that, I don't even know what happened!" Draco gasped finally, staring up at Snape with fear.

"You threatened to attack me..." Snape began slowly.

"I wouldn't have attacked you! It wasn't you! It was __Him__!" Draco only thought of the shadowy monster that blocked his path, "I-It wasn't...I can't... _I don't know_..."

"...There is a class full of students who saw differently..."

Despite everything churning within him, the familiar feeling of humiliation sunk to his gut like an aching dead weight. ..._I must of looked like a psycho..._

"Despite everything I believe you." Snape continued bluntly, keeping his own stare locked on Draco, "And I need you to return that trust."

Draco nodded in agreement, but began to stutter in protest as he noticed Snape's wand level with his eyes. Snape was saying something about him being a baby, and to stop whining. Then he went on to say how it wouldn't hurt, it was simply a magical scanning spell.

To that Draco could feel his eyes widen, "You think someone cast some kind of spell? What kind of spell would have that affect on me? Why?"

To that Snape stopped momentarily to quirk a disbelieving brow in his direction, as if the answer to those questions were obvious.

"I think the questions we should be asking is how?" Snape muttered, "And who has the ability to perform that kind of magic?"

They were good questions, ones that found themselves swirling in a sickening pattern, searching desperately for answers but finding nothing in his own confusion. To distract himself, Draco focused everything on Snape's wand, which hovered inches from his body as it scanned him. Snape's face was twisted in grim determination as nothing seemed to happen, then suddenly, a bright blue light emanated from Draco's chest to Snape's wand. It wasn't painful in anyway, but it was eerie to look at, and by the alarming disbelief contorted on Snape's features, he wasn't the only one to find it disturbing.

"...Merlin..." Snape breathed, licking his dry lips while trying to regain his composure as the light faded.

"Professor?" Draco whispered back, unable to speak properly as the fear bubbled within him at Snape's unsettled state, "What is it?"

Black oily eyes snapped up to meet his own, miraculously darkening even further with barely suppressed emotion. It was frightening to look at, because only a few people held an emotionless stare better than himself, and Snape was one of them. For him to lose composure, if only for a moment, was significantly bad.

"Nothing." Snape was back to normal, "Go straight to your room, and not the Slytherin dorms."

Snape rose up and Draco followed, unable to protest even if he wanted to. As he silently went to collect his things, he heard the hurried footsteps of his professor echo as he practically fled the potions classroom. Draco, unnerved by being in the potions room alone quickly followed with a silent Sofia clutched in one hand while his bag was carelessly flung over his shoulder.

888

His own footsteps echoed in his haste, dismissing everything that was going on around him as he plowed on. In fact he was so unaware of everything around him that he nearly knocked over another student.

"Draco!" Dominic gasped excitedly, not even acknowledging the fact that he was almost knocked off his feet, "Are we still meeting tomorrow?"

Draco nodded absently, unconsciously fiddling with the strap of his bag.

"The training's been really helping me," Dominic gushed, "I'm now top of my class in potions and my theory in Defense against the Dark Arts has impressed my teacher!"

It wasn't Dominic's fault, he supposed, that he was so stressed at the moment. It's not like he knew what had happened in the last half an hour or so. But that didn't stop Draco from jittering from foot to foot in an un-Malfoy like way, staring at Dominic's flushed features and wishing he was safely locked away in his sanctuary.

"Isn't that fantastic!... I really wish I could train more..."

Draco agreed, anything to help this conversation reach its end so that he could hurry away.

"Draco?" Dominic was suddenly in his face with a worried expression, "You alright? You look ill."

_Since when was he so readable that even a first year could recognise it? _Draco fumed silently, shaking his head and mumbling some random excuse so that he could move. However what he was not expecting, was the firm grip that clung to his shoulder as he tried to brush passed.

"The hospital wing's that way." Dominic said in a firm voice that did not fit his usually eager-to-impress persona.

Draco stared at the hand that held onto him incredulously, his brows rising high at the determined boy that faced him.

"I'm well aware of where the hospital wing is." Draco snarled with impatience, "But I'm going to my room."

"But the Slytherin dorms are that way." Dominic responded a little too quickly with a smirk that could rival his own.

Draco could barely repress the growl of frustration wanting to escape him. Dominic was spending way too much time with him, the boy knew alot more about him than he realised and that was not acceptable.

A scathing retort was on the tip of his tongue, Draco knew it would affect the boy badly for a while, but right now his desperation to reach his room was overwhelming and worth more to him than anything else in that moment. But while that comment was about to be said, something foreign and extremely powerful infiltrated his senses completely. The sensation was deadly and dangerously subtle. In fact, if he had hadn't have felt it once before, he wouldn't have even noticed its invasion. Not that his acknowledgment changed anything.

The dark veil slipped through his mind once again, dramatically warping everything around him. The hand that gripped him became an emaciated, claw-like shadow that dug painfully into his skin. Dominic was no where to be seen, instantly replaced by the monster that haunted his dreams. It smiled eerily at him, before violently shoving him to the ground.

"DRACO!"

*SMACK!*

Draco groaned at the impact, but it was nothing compared to the fear that threatened to consumed him at the dead weight that suddenly clamped onto both of his wrists, simultaneously pinning him to the floor.

_"So how it feel to become my prey...Completely helpless before me...?" _The one voice he never wished to hear again echoed for the second time that day, "_I only ask, because I've never been a victim to anyone..."_

The shadow settled on his hips, legs kneeling either side of Draco's frozen body as he knelt closer. _"...However I cannot enjoy watching you squirm if I have to work for it..."_

"Draco are you ok, get up!" Another, more familiar sound cried, but it was distorted, a withered sound that hardly had meaning over the voice of his tormentor.

Suddenly, the shadow leant in closer, instantly morphing into the one man who disgusted him even more than that monster; the image of his father. A pale, older version of himself glared hatefully towards him, straggly platinum blond hair framing his pointed face; pale hands wrapped mercilessly around his throat.

"DRACO IT'S ME, DOMINIC!"

He tried to throw the larger man off of him, but with both his wrists captured the chances of him being successful were next to none. His futile attempts were more like thrashing, straining against the binds that held him in place. The piercing electrical eyes of his father delved passed all of Draco's defenses, watching with a sadistic smirk as they crumbled around him.

"SNAP OUT OF IT!"

_"...Dad..." _He whimpered with what little breath he had left, closing his teary eyes as if doing so would change his fate, _"Get off of me! Please!"_

"SOMEBODY _HELP HIM__!_" Dominic shrieked, "_HE'S SUFFOCATING!"_

Unbelievably, Dominic's hoarse shriek shattered the shadowed world corrupting his mind. The pressure on both his wrists and neck dissolved and Draco gasped as if he had come up from being submerged under water. Dominic was literally in his face shaking him roughly and babbling nonsensical dribble that Draco could hardly keep up with in his turmoil state.

Draco pulled himself onto unsteady feet, feeling physically sick but desperately repressing it in his urge to go to his room. Dominic jumped up beside him, worry shining brightly in his young eyes.

"Let me take you to the hospital wing, Draco!" Dominic demanded, "Whatever just happened isn't normal!"

"No!" Draco growled stubbornly.

The last thing he needed to do was draw attention to this, whatever it was, especially now that it had happened more than once. Maybe it was a delayed reaction to what he had been through, maybe he was weak, and then there was a more sinister possibility; maybe someone was delibrately inflicting this on him.

"Well then wherever you're going I'm coming too. If you won't see Madam Pomfrey, at least let me do this."

"Why?" Draco asked, picking up his bag and Sofia with more effort than he'd ever admit to.

"Well we are friends, aren't we?" Dominic replied, as if that justified everything.

Maybe in Dominic's world, it did, and with Draco in the fragile state that he was in, had little energy to argue with, so grudgingly accepted Dominic's help. They left the corridor with Draco guiding Dominic to his hideaway room, both students unaware of the third person watching them from afar. An electrical afterglow simmered on the tip of the owners wand lighting up a malicious smirk.

888End Chapter Seven 888

Ok that was a long chapter, but I hope you liked it. I should be updating on the 11th of April.

Cookies to everyone that reviews!


	8. A Spell Of Fear

Thanks to my five reviewers they made my day - I've updated this which was way overdue and for that I am truly sorry. The next chapter should be posted in two weeks time and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Responses

Ed: Dumbledore is more explained in this chapter so maybe you might like him a little better. I hope you like this chapter as much as the others!

Priscilla: that's what I'm looking forward to aswell, it's not a common plot so it'll be interesting to see where it ends up. I hope you like this chappie!

Nameless Little Girl: thank you that's so sweet, I hope you like this chapter too!

Chaney: not sure about Sofia being a pet, but then again, he can talk to her…! Now I'm really confused… oh well, I'm glad you like this story so far and continue to do so!!!

Victoria: the next chapter is here so I hope you like it as much as the others!!!

**Disclaimer - you know the drill….**

**********More Than One Spy**********

**Chapter Eight - A Spell Of Fear.**

"This place is amazing!" Dominic whistled in appreciation as he jumped into one of the armchairs, "Did Dumbledore give this to you?"

Draco nodded distractedly while putting Sofia up on his bedside cabinet, "Don't tell anyone, Dominic."

Dominic turned to Draco at that, "You mean about this place? Why?"

After making sure Sofia was ok he turned to face Dominic to find the boy looking at him in confusion.

"It's complicated." He mused, choosing his words carefully, "I've chosen to go my own way. But in doing so, I've changed, I don't belong with them anymore. They wouldn't understand."

"But maybe they'll like the new you...?" Dominic said with more optimism then what suited him.

Draco practically choked on his vicious laugh, "Have you not gone over 'Hogwarts, A History'? The four founders who created Hogwarts set a division among ranks just by creating their own houses. A specific personality to each house, which hasn't changed in centuries! Do you honestly think it's going to change now just because one student decides he doesn't like it?!"

He didn't know why he was telling Dominic all of this, maybe the strain of today finally caught up with him. Maybe, he couldn't find the strength to keep everything inside anymore, and then there was another possibility - one which Draco didn't know if he could face yet.

The fact that Dominic was the only one left who actually gave a damn about him.

An awkward silence shrouded the pair at his outburst, neither knowing what to say that could possibly break the sudden tension. It was so thick on the air it was almost suffocating. Draco distracted himself by slumping onto his bed, all the while staring at his visitor who busied himself with a loose thread on his school robes.

"...Well...I don't know much about its history, it's now that's important." Dominic mumbled, "And what I've seen is fear. This whole castle reeks of it. Students are afraid of being alone in case they get ambushed by students with a different coloured tie - some students in my class going so far as to say that talking with you -a Slytherin - is traitorous to my house. I might have been here for only a couple of months - but treason? For talking to someone wearing a green tie! Come on! It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of!"

Draco found himself transfixed by Dominic's enthusiasm - the words he spoke with a fiery passion. His whole concept of the school was unique and somehow oddly accurate. Draco just never thought of it that way - until now.

"And there's this guys name that I'm not even aloud to say...Vullee... Vulde...Vuldemart...or it was something like that...?" Dominic scratched his head as his face crinkled up in concentration, "But anyway that's not important, what's important is that apparently he's so powerful that he could wipe out the wizarding world, and some say he's already mounting an army to do just that. So with a threat like that on the horizon, why are the teachers keeping up old traditions that divide the school and future allies?!"

"...As true as all that is..." Draco interjected, "I don't think Dumbledore will go for it, I mean you can suggest it to him..."

"Well I was thinking that if there was someone strong willed enough to kick start it off." Dominic suggested lightly, "Then maybe he'd go with the idea..."

Dominic was looking pointedly at him, and Draco paled as it suddenly dawned on him what the boy was saying, "No! Absolutely not!"

"But Draco, we could call it a 'Neutral Table.' Just think about it for a moment--!"

"There is no way. I am already treading dangerous waters as it is, the last thing I need to do is publicly announce my defection!"

"That's exactly what you need to do. Hang the rules and hang the ties! With a Slytherin and a Gryfindor becoming friends - people will see it is possible and the unity will grow!"

"You're obsessed!" Draco practically shrieked, jumping off the bed to face Dominic directly.

"Maybe but I'm right and you know it." Dominic stood to his feet as well, "If you're alright on your own I'll leave it for now, but think on what I've said. I mean seriously Draco what other choice do you have. Staying with the Slytherins? You don't even sleep in their dorm anymore, why eat at their table?"

To that Draco could literally feel his jaw drop, the harsh truth of Dominic's words ringing in his ears long after the boy left his room.

**888**

Harry found that once again he was picking at his food; the chicken, peas and potatoes becoming nothing more than a pile of mush floating in the gravy. Something else was on his mind - or should he say, someone.

"I knew that ferret was a nutcase!" Ron exclaimed loudly around a mouthful of chicken.

He stabbed at his plate, finding that mediocre task helpful to maintain his thoughts. Malfoy had stopped Zabini from attacking him. Not that he couldn't defend himself, but still...

"He actually threatened Snape with his wand!"

And then in class, he just lost it completely. That wasn't like Malfoy at all. For him to threaten a teacher, and Snape of all people. No... something wasn't right. His own eyes confirmed it when Harry saw something his friends didn't; Malfoy collapsing to his knees - practically quaking in fright, before Snape slammed the door in his face.

"If we're lucky he'll get expelled!" Ron cheered.

_Expelled?_

"I think Dumbledore will give him a chance to explain." Hermione stated, "Though what plausible excuse he can come up with is beyond me."

He couldn't even think of it - strangely enough. A Hogwarts without Malfoy wasn't a Hogwarts at all, in Harry's opinion. With a half-hearted excuse he stood to his feet, telling Ron and Hermione that he was going to go to the common room to sleep - when in truth he had no such plan in mind. But before he could walk away, something else happened.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM! CEDRIC!"

The great hall clamoured down at the girls petrified scream, and Harry whirled around at the familiar voice. Cho Chang, Harry's first crush - had jumped onto her chair - wand in her shaking hand. The sudden shout had frozen Harry to the core, partly because of what she had shouted, partly because it was her and partly because of said wand aimed directly at him. Cho looked completely deranged. Never in his life had he seen her act like that, she had never lifted a finger to anyone before...

"YOU __KILLED_ _HIM!" She suddenly shrieked.

Her wand hand flailed in a quick movement that Harry could hardly keep up with in his shocked state. The maddening glare in her bloodshot eyes flooded with tears even as she stormed across the Ravenclaw table to get to the Gryfindor one. Students screamed and scrambled to get out of the way, plates shattered and food was splayed across the floor. Teachers jumped to their feet, Dumbledore reacting first. His spell was quicker than hers, knocking her wand away with ease.

But that didn't stop her.

In that instance she lunged at Harry, knocking him to the floor. Somehow she had her hands around his throat, his head was throbbing painfully so as it had collided with the Gryfindor table on the way down. His hands were trying to pry hers off of him even as Ron tried to pulled her away.

_"I'LL KILL YOU!!!"_

She was screaming in his face, spittle flying in her rage as she tightened her grip on his neck. Harry could barely think straight, his world nothing more than bright spots of light surrounding her enraged face. He couldn't breathe...

Then suddenly, before unconsciousness could claim him, somebody finally dragged her off of him. Harry gulped down air gratefully, scrambling away from his attacker so that he could sit up properly and really see her for the first time.

She was near enough unconscious herself, supported completely by McGonagall who could hardly believe it herself. Dumbledore was standing beside her with a grim expression. Snape was hissing something inaudible into Dumbledore's ear, but Harry was far from interested, listening to Cho's words instead.

"...Cedric..." She was mumbling, "...He killed Cedric..."

Harry felt a dead weight sinking into the pit of his stomach. It culminated there, driving the centre of Harry's world until everything else became numb. People were gossiping but Harry wasn't listening. Someone then proceeded to lead him away; to where he was not sure, but at the moment he didn't really care.

Hands led him straight to a bed - his, he imagined - but even as he tried to sleep all that echoed in his head was Cho's scream - she thought he had killed Cedric. She had tried to kill him.

**888**

Draco tried to maintain his composure, with his head held high and his strides surefooted and precise - just as it was expected of him - as he entered the great hall for breakfast. However fate it would seem, decided to be cruel that morning. As he swerved to the left, aiming straight for the Slytherin table, the gossiping had already begun. Students from the Hufflepuff table were leaning towards each other in a false sense of privacy when it was clear their taunts could be heard across the hall. So for Draco who was walking passed at the time; it seemed like he had a written invitation.

"...Attacked him..."

_...Maybe I'm just being paranoid..._

"...yeah I know..."

_...They could be talking about something else..._

"...crazy..."

_...Ok, so maybe not..._

"...screaming 'murderer'..."

_...I did not...! _Draco fumed, feeling the urge to turn on the group.

"...Chang..."

_...Huh...?_

"...That chink from Ravenclaw...?"

"...Yeah, I can't believed you missed it...She attacked Harry Potter right here in the Great Hall! Right in front of the bloody teachers and everything!"

_...What...?_

The boy was practically laughing after that last bit of news, but Draco was far from interested. Instead he found his eyes involuntarily scanning the Gryffindor table for Potter, finding him with his head in his hands as people from every direction stared at him like vultures with only the Weasel and the Muggleborn siding with him. Shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of the sudden pang of pity that plunged into the pit of his stomach, Draco tore his eyes away from the sorry sight to join his housemates.

But unfortunately for him they were far worse.

"Hey it's Crazy Draky!" Of course it was Zabini, "I'm surprised you're still here after attacking professor Snape!"

"I hardly attacked him." Draco snarled in defence as he grabbed a bit of toast from the large pile.

"He's right there Blaise..." Parkinson mused as if in serious contemplation, before her pug-like features turned sour, "He chickened out like a pathetic Mudblood!"

Theodore Nott rose his hand pretending as if he had a wand in his hand, "...M--Move...Or I swear I'll hex you...!" His hand was trembling in a over-dramatic flare, his eyes widening in mock fear to spitefully taunt him.

The roar of laughter that met the jeers was deafening and he was sure that the other houses were listening in with interest. He could almost taste the hum of their anticipation from where he was sitting trying to mask his humiliation. He would not give them that satisfaction, ever!

Biting into the slice of toast he held, Draco was seriously beginning to wonder why on earth he had been friends with them in the first place. But then again, if he hadn't had been through what he had - he refused to call it by name - then he would still be like them. Nasty, spiteful and completely ignorant of the truth. Maybe that was why he couldn't walk away from them. It sounded cliché and pathetically sentimental -- but maybe he could save them from themselves.

_...Maybe..._

"Oh this one's better!" Zabini crowed, too caught up in the moment to realise his error, "...D-dad...G-Get o-ff-ff of me..._P--Please_...!"

He voice was whimpering as much as he could while trying not to snigger as he pretended to strangle himself, while the other Slytherins had no issues with releasing another roar of malicious laughter. But Draco, although he sat there without so much as batting an eyelid in response, was unnerved. The words brewed within him for a few seconds until the answer dawned on him, and with it a horrific realisation.

_...I never said that in Snape's classroom, I was all alone with Dominic in the corridor..._

_"...I think the questions we should be asking is how?" Snape oily tone re-played in his head, "And who has the ability to perform that kind of magic?..." _

_...Was it possible...?_

He looked up at Zabini, the way he sat amongst the Slytherins as if he were king of the castle. His eyes were alight with the atmosphere but beyond that, if one looked closely, was a calculating glare that become more apparent as he faced Draco directly.

"Is something the matter, gentlemen?" Snape asked, seeming to appear out of no where. He was met with a dozen or so negative answers, and continued, "I would be most unsatisfied if my house were to embarrass me with this ruckus. Especially when there are Ministry Officials on the premises."

_...Trust Snape to get everyones attention..._

Then a hand squeezed his shoulder before being removed just as quickly. Turning around it was only to find Snape staring down at him with a small, reassuring smirk - before he strode back up to the head table as if nothing had occurred.

**888**

Dumbledore stared out over his moon-rimmed glasses at the ocean of students that sat before him, a sea of wide eyes looking back at him with open curiosity.

"I'm sorry to have to interrupt breakfast with such grave news, but this matter has to be solved as quickly as possible. Yesterday, as most of you are aware, two students became victims to a highly illegal Dark Arts curse." Dumbledore paused for a moment as a round of hushed whispers rose up from the crowd, "I've alerted the Aurors to these incidences and they are here to scan everyone's wand. It will not hurt in the slightest, but it will determine who is responsible for the attacks. I myself will go first so that you can see the process."

He turned to the Auror who on queue stood up beside him, "And I must be perfectly blunt - no excuses will be tolerated, everyone in this room will have their wand checked."

His grave expression must of held more sway then he ever thought possible, because at his words at least a third of the crowd cowered slightly in fear. Undeterred he faced the Auror, hands held palm upwards with his wand resting on them. The Auror had his own wand out in a flash, a small white light shimmering brightly on the tip as it went from one end of Dumbledore's wand to the other. When nothing happened the Auror let his hand dropped, stating that the headmaster was clear. With that he signalled the other four Aurors to get to work - one to each House, working methodically down the tables in a professional manner. The Auror who was still beside Dumbledore went to check the other teachers.

**888**

The process had taken all morning, which was even more frustrating as everyone was cleared. No culprit was found, and everyone at Hogwarts had been checked. Everyone.

_...And there's no way one of the Death eaters made it into Hogwarts... _

Dumbledore rubbed his temples agitated. The whole situation was getting to him.

_...Or maybe..._ he had thought with a sad smile ... _Maybe I'm too old for this... _

After the wands had been checked the student embodiment had their lunch and then went back to classes in the afternoon. Leaving Dumbledore to make his way back up to his office, feet dragging. He was ever so grateful when the gargoyle jumped aside to let him stand on the spiral staircase. It took him directly to his door, and for that Dumbledore was appreciative.

_...A nice cup of tea and a lemon drop will do wonders... _

He slumped into his chair, his eyes dulled and slightly sunken as he waved his wand in a careless, but well practised move. In seconds his perfect cup of tea was before him with a tin of lemon drops. He smiled slightly at the tin as one of the sweets flew up and popped into his open mouth. He let the sweet clank at his teeth as the bitterly taste swept through his mouth and send a shiver down his spine. However just as he was beginning to relax a regal hawk-like owl flew through the only open window. It didn't even stop for a drink, letting a small letter slip from his talons onto Dumbledore's desk before flying out again.

Curious as he was, Dumbledore opened a hand, the letter flying into it. The fine paper and neat calligraphy intrigued him further as he roughly tore it open. Scanning the words through his moon-rimmed glasses only emphasised his shock as his irises widened comically.

_'Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_At this present time I must bypass any pleasantries in writing to you, this letter cannot be discovered by anyone other than yourself so I must be brief. What I must communicate to you involves my loyalty to my husband, and that of my only son. For far too long now I have stood silent, and have witnessed a change in my son that I can no longer bare. My fear is that I am already too late. I write in the greatest hope that we can meet in private, so I can plead my case and pray you are as kind as they say. I cannot reveal anything more in my letter, only pray that you will heed the urgency in my words; my son's life could depend on it._

_Narcissa.'_

_...Indeed... _Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully as his eyes glanced over the words again and his teeth clacked against the lemon drop in his mouth, _...I am intrigued, we will most definitely meet, Narcissa..._

**End Chapter Eight.**

Well that's all for now and if you loved it let me know!


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